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Jonas made his way back to the lake, and then paddled as 
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DUCK LAKE 


By 

E. RYERSON YOUNG, Jr. 



NEW YORK: EATON & MAINS 
CINCINNATI: JENNINGS & GRAHAM 



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Copyright, 1905, by 
EATON & MAINS 




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DEDICATED 
To my forefathers and colaborers 
in Canada^ 

The best friends of the pioneer settler. 


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TABLE OF CONTENTS 


I. A Haunch of Venison: 

1. A Gift of Venison ii 

2. Jonas, the Indian 21 

3. Old Dave Dodge 34 

4. The Backwoods Trial 47 

II. Chubb: 

1. “ The Cow Shall Feed with the Bear” 63 

2. The Bear Trap 66 

3. Back to Nature 70 

4. The Cow and the Bear 77 

5. Chubb’s Home 81 

6. “No Tell” ; 86 

7. New Quarters 89 

8. More Prophecy 94 

9. Purchasing the Red Cow 102 

10. Jennie’s Errand 107 

11. The Search for Jennie 112 

12. Jonas Finds the Red Cow 115 

13. Jennie and Chubb 119 

14. The Coming of the Father 124 

15. The Young Preacher Shot 130 

16. The Preacher and the Father 135 

17. ‘‘Good-bye, My Boy, I Love You” 139 

18. The New Day 144 

19. The Father Again 151 

III. Dave Dodge: 

1. The Burning of Duck Lake Hotel 159 

2. To the Rescue 168 

3. The Gall of Bitterness 177 

4. The New Suit 184 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Jonas made his way back to the lake, and then paddled 
as hard as he could for Sandy Bay frontispiece 

FACING 

E. Ryerson Young, Jr 61 

Then, by easy stages, Chubb was carried through the ^ 
woods to the little log parsonage 93 

y 


“ Look at this, my boy,” said he. “ If the old ones won’t 
be good and do right, the young ones will lie down in 
peace.” 149 


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A HAUNCH OF VENISON 


A Haunch of Venison 

A TALE OF THE BACKWOODS 
OF CANADA 


CHAPTER I 
A Gift of Venison 



HE latest arrival in the Duck Lake district 


of northern Ontario was the newly ap- 


pointed game warden, Mr. John Holden 


Fitzgerald, and here, by his vigorous application to 
business, eagerness in calling in the power of the 
law, and his haste in procuring evidence, he nearly 
made the innocent suffer with the guilty. 

The noble game the moose deer were in danger 
of extinction in the beautiful lake and forest regions 
of the province of Ontario, such was the persistency 
and success of the hunters in these parts. To prevent 
such a calamity the provincial government passed 
stringent laws that for a number of years no moose 
deer were to be shot under any consideration, and 
any person found killing one would be subject to a 
fine ranging from twenty dollars for the first offense 


12 


Duck Lake 


to fifty dollars or imprisonment for others. The 
game and guns of the poacher were to be confiscated. 
To enforce their law the government appointed a 
number of game wardens and sent them to different 
points where killing had been reported. 

The beautiful country around Duck Lake was one 
of these regions which had fallen into ill repute, and 
to it Game Warden Fitzgerald was sent. He entered 
upon his duties with the zeal of a new appointee,^ 
but his pleasure in his appointment was increased by 
the presence of his cousin, Mr. Horace Fitzgerald, 
with his wife and little children, who had taken a 
cottage on Duck Lake and were extending their stay 
into the autumn. 

When the game warden reached Duck Lake he 
made his way over to his cousin's home, but was 
disappointed in finding him away. He, however, 
accepted the cordial invitation of Mrs. Fitzgerald 
to step in and rest, as Mr. Horace might return home 
at any moment. 

‘Wou are extending your stay considerably. Don't 
you find it lonely?" asked the game warden. 

‘'O, a little, sometimes," replied Mrs. Fitzgerald, 
''but the autumn scenery is so beautiful. I believe 
it is the best part of the year in this charming lake 
region. Horace is perfectly delighted with it." 

"Where has Horace gone to?" 

"I don't know exactly. He has a few friends 
whom he is fond of visiting. One is an Indian, 
Jonas Bear, who is the best canoeist and fisherman 


Duck Lake 


13 


around here. There are two or three settlers he 
likes to visit to hear their tales of early struggles 
when they first came into this country. There is also 
an interesting school-teacher not far away; but his 
latest discovery or acquisition is a young preacher 
who came in here a few months ago.” 

‘‘That is indeed a new turn for Horace. It sounds 
like conversion to hear of him fraternizing with a 
preacher,” laughed the warden. 

“Well, he is a decidedly interesting fellow,” re- 
plied Mrs. Fitzgerald. “He is not like the ordinary 
ministers, full of preach and little else. Mr. Hewitt 
— for that is his name — believes in doing something 
for his people. He is very independent, however, 
and some of his women parishioners think he is a 
little too independent and not a little conceited, espe- 
cially over his own cooking and laundering,” and 
Mrs. Fitzgerald laughed a merry laugh. 

“A jolly ‘Vicar of Bray’ in the woods,” suggested 
the warden, with an attempt to be merry also. 

“O, no, not that. He’s too shy, too single-minded, 
too earnest for that. When he came he could not 
find a suitable home, as the few settlers who have 
houses of any size have their extra rooms filled with 
tourists or hunters, and Mr. Hewitt would not live 
in the common room of the smaller householders. 
Failing in his attempt to get himself a home, Mr. 
Hewitt searched around and found a discarded log 
cabin at the other end of the lake. For this he 
negotiated, and secured it for the consideration of 


14 


Duck Lake 


fifteen dollars a year. He patched up the logs, filled 
in the chinks, and sent to his distant home for a 
few things to make it habitable. Some hemp mat- 
ting acts as carpet, and an ancient stove serves for 
heating and cooking purposes. He says he can make 
the best johnnycake around here,’’ and Mrs. Fitz- 
gerald went off into another merry laugh. 

‘'And this the women deny,” put in the warden. 

“Of course they do,” said Mrs. Fitzgerald. “They 
say, ‘Such conceit !’ But Mrs. Miller pities his laun- 
dering attempts the most. She says, ‘Why, it’s as 
yellow as my leghorn rooster’s legs !’ ” And as she 
pictured the contemptuous look of the sturdy back- 
woodsman’s wife the happy little woman went into 
peals of laughter. 

“Is it the preacher’s johnnycake that takes Horace 
over there?” asked the warden. 

“O, don’t you get sarcastic about our preacher. 
We won’t stand that around here. He may be inde- 
pendent and all that, but he is good and nice and 
kind. He is happily innocent of the ways of the 
world you know only too well, but he has read a 
good deal; he is fond of music and is jolly good 
company. Horace likes to visit him, and he is 
always welcome here.” 

Mr. Horace Fitzgerald had gone that day to the 
“Parsonage,” as they had humorously styled Mr. 
Hewitt’s cabin home, but when he reached the place 
he found it empty. The night before a farmer by 


Duck Lake 


15 


the name of Farley had come on horseback and in- 
formed Mr. Hewitt that his hired man had been 
taken suddenly ill, and they thought that he was 
dying. The missionary quickly ran out, saddled 
his horse, and told his informant to lead the way 
over the rocky road as fast as he dare. 

When they arrived Mr. Hewitt saw that the poor 
fellow was suffering from a severe attack of inflam- 
mation. To merely speak soothing words to the man 
while he was in such agony seemed to the practical 
minister sheer mockery and folly. It was time for 
action, and he had bags of salt heated and then ap- 
plied to the suffering man. He also used hot water 
in abundance, and then he gave the man a gentle 
massage. This heroic treatment was repeated 
throughout the night. By morning the young man 
was much relieved, and hopes were entertained for 
his recovery. Mr. Hewitt then read and prayed 
with the sufferer, and carefully nursed him all that 
day. 

When Horace Fitzgerald found no one in the 
“Parsonage’’ he went in, sat down, and rested a 
while. He looked into some of Mr. Hewitt’s books, 
played a little on his guitar, and then picked up an 
old rifle which the young preacher had brought with 
him. This rifle had once belonged to Mr. Hewitt’s 
father, and, thinking that he might have some use 
for it, he brought it with a box of cartridges to his 
backwoods home. But up to the present time he 
had not used it. 


16 


Duck Lake 


Horace Fitzgerald was quite a hunter, and so was 
much interested in the weapon. While handling it 
he determined to try it, and after picking a few 
cartridges out of the box he started off into the 
woods. He had not walked more than a quarter of 
a mile from the house when, to his delight, he saw a 
large moose spring up from his resting place, about 
two hundred yards away. He raised the rifle and 
fired. The startled brute gave one leap into the air 
and dropped dead. 

Horace hurried back to Mr. Hewitt’s cabin, re- 
placed the gun, and secured his carving knife and ax. 
Returning to the deer, he cleaned it and skinned it. 
He cut off a good haunch and carried it back to the 
‘Tarsonage” with the knife and ax. He deposited 
the meat on the table, stuck the knife in a beam, and 
left the ax outside of the door. Looking around, he 
found a large piece of canvas. Out of this he made 
a kind of bag and placed in it as much venison 
as he wanted to carry home. The rest he hung up 
in the trees, making what the Indians call a ‘‘cache.” 

When Horace Fitzgerald reached his home, highly 
delighted with his success, his wife told him that his 
cousin the warden had arrived, that he had waited 
for him all the morning, and that he had now gone 
on to the Duck Lake Hotel. Then, suddenly rec- 
ollecting the warden’s business, and the boasts he 
had made to her that he would put a stop to all 
moose poaching in that part, she said, with some 
solicitude: 


Duck Lake 


17 


‘^But what will the warden say about this moose 
you have shot ? He doesn’t approve of such things.” 

he!” replied the triumphant hunter, jocularly. 
''Give him a steak to eat. I’ll guarantee he’ll say that 
it is prime.” 

Although he had said this bravely, he was struck 
with a conviction that he had done wrong, and felt 
that even relationship with the warden would not 
shield him from the law’s demands when his act 
became known. 

"But what will you tell the warden?” persisted 
his wife. 

"Tell him all, and also that his moose must not 
come and tempt people when they are out hunting 
for their humble fellows,” said Mr. Fitzgerald, 
rather more shortly than courtesy allows. 

With provoking imitation of a monitor at school 
Mrs. Fitzgerald said, with a merry twinkle: 

"Now you’ll catch it. See if you don’t.” 

It was late the next day when Mr. Hewitt, after 
his pastoral visit, started on his long ride home. 
The day was very raw. A drizzly rain was falling. 
So when he reached his home he was tired, hungry, 
and cold. 

The sight of the splendid haunch of meat on the 
table made his heart dance. 

"Somebody has been very kind,” said he. 

The horse was quickly stabled and fed, and then 
the missionary returned to examine his treasure. 


18 


Duck Lake 


He soon had a fire roaring in his stove, and a savory 
steak sizzling in the flames. 

After he had heartily enjoyed his simple meal he 
threw himself on his lounge and was soon lost in a 
much-needed, refreshing slumber. But the young 
preacher had been asleep only a short time when he 
was awakened with a start, and found a stranger in 
his room. It was the new game warden. 

‘‘Ha, ha! young man,’’ said the warden, “I have 
caught you this time, almost in the act — red-handed, 
anyway. Before you sleep, after your successful 
chase, you should have covered your tracks better.” 

Mr. Hewitt sprang up and rubbed his eyes in a 
most bewildered way. Things seemed so strange to 
him ; he thought he must be dreaming. What could 
the game warden mean? “Caught red-handed — 
cover up tracks?” 

There was a moment of staggering silence. 
“Sir, I’ve no tracks to cover up,” said the young 
missionary. 

“What impudence!” said the warden, growing 
stern. He had hoped that the young man would 
have confessed, and that he would not have given 
him any more trouble than was absolutely necessary. 

“Can’t I see with my eyes what a fine piece of 
venison you have on the table? Within half a mile 
of this place a moose was killed, part of it is now 
hanging in the trees, and there are blood tracks all 
the way to your house. I’ll guarantee that your rifle 
is hardly cold, and your ax and knife are yet bloody.” 


Duck Lake 


19 


Mr. Hewitt was, if possible, more stupefied than 
ever at these words. When the warden referred to 
his gun he replied: 

“I have never fired my rifle since I came here.’’ 

The game warden walked over to the place where 
the rifle stood. He took it up in his hands, opened 
the barrel, and held it up to the sunlight. 

‘‘Come here, and look at this,” he said. 

The young man walked stupidly over. The uni- 
verse seemed falling around him. He walked as one 
in a dream. 

He looked! Sure enough, there were unmistak- 
able signs of fresh powder and other marks of recent 
firing. 

“I cannot account for this,” said he, meekly. 

“Bring me your hunting knife and ax,” demanded 
the warden. 

Mr. Hewitt went outside and found his ax. 
Though he was a decidedly muscular young man, 
yet the sight of that ax made him as weak as a 
kitten. 

“There, sir,” said the warden, as he stood in the 
doorway, “there is the blood of the moose you have 
killed and cut up. Now, out with your hunting 
knife, and be quick about it.” 

“I have no hunting knife,” was the reply. 

“Well, get the knife you used to cut up the moose, 
whether it is a hunting knife or not,” said the war- 
den. He had his eyes about him far more than did 
the poor missionary, and in his moving around he 


20 


Duck Lake 


found the knife where it had been left the day before, 
sticking in the beam, near the door. 

''O, here it is. Ha, ha! all smeared with blood! 
Now, young man, I’ll make you sweat for this. Ly- 
ing as well as poaching. Pretty work for a young 
preacher looking for orders in the ministry. I con- 
fiscate your gun and knife. I shall take this piece 
of meat with me ; and when I summon you before a 
justice it will be well for you to appear and confess 
your guilt.’’ 

With this he took the meat, rifle, and knife, and 
left the young preacher’s home. 

A more distracted young man could hardly have 
been found than Mr. Hewitt at that moment. Bright, 
almost unusually buoyant, even when many serious 
things seemed to impede his way, he appeared to 
rejoice in things that tested physical endurance, but 
here was an altogether new condition of affairs, a 
testing of the spirit. What a tangle the whole world 
seemed to be in ! 

Perhaps if Mr. Hewitt had not been so worn out 
after his self-sacrificing endeavors for the sick man 
he would have been less distracted. But what a com- 
plication of evidence! Proven guilty to his face! 
What could he do? 


M“ 


CHAPTER II 
Jonas, the Indian 

"R. HEWITT, want any fish to-day?’’ 
'‘Hello, Jonas, old boy, come in,” said 
the young missionary, recognizing the 
voice of his Indian friend, and glad to be relieved 
from his distracting thoughts. 

Jonas had quick ears, and he detected a false note 
in the usually merry voice, and he said : 

“Is Mr. Hewitt sick to-day?” 

“No, not sick, Jonas, but ruined. All my work 
here is to be utterly ruined. I must have been dream- 
ing or something or other. I came home about an 
hour ago from tending to Farley’s hired man, and 
found a piece of meat on the table. I then lay down 
to get a nap, when in popped the new game warden, 
and said that I had shot a moose. My rifle and ax, 
neither of which I have touched for days, showed 
signs of recent use. I am to be fined or confined in 
jail for poaching.” 

Jonas’s face became solemn, and for a moment 
he was deep in thought ; then he asked : 

“Killed moose, where ?” 

“The warden said it was killed within half a mile 
of this house, and that there are blood marks all the 
way.” 


22 


Duck Lake 


‘We go see/’ said Jonas, as he immediately 
turned, went out, and began examining the ground. 

With unerring skill he found the marks that had 
attracted the attention of the game warden. These 
the young men followed up, and at length came to 
the remains of the moose. 

“Good fine moose, that,” said Jonas, with evident 
pleasure. “But who kill him?” 

“Ah, that’s the question,” responded the mis- 
sionary. 

Jonas surveyed the ground carefully, and in a 
few minutes brightened, as he glanced at some 
marks in the ground, near the spot where the deer 
fell, and then looked at Mr. Hewitt’s feet. 

“Long feet, the man who kill deer; you square, 
him long.” 

“How do you know, Jonas ?” 

“Here, see. He try to lift deer. Ground soft 
with blood. Feet go deep ; make big mark.” 

That was a point for Jonas; and when it was 
explained to Mr. Hewitt he was for a moment 
amazed, for it brought to mind the generous feet 
possessed by his friend, and he said almost without 
thinking, “I wonder if those are Fitzgerald’s 
tracks !” 

Jonas had thought the same, but had not wished 
to express himself first. He, however, had added 
another discovery by the time Mr. Hewitt had recov- 
ered from his surprise and had made his last remark. 

“Mr. Fitzgerald, perhaps, for sure. Here, look. 


Duck Lake 


23 


Heavy marks; man with heavy load; on trail to 
Mr. Fitzgerald, his house. Me go see; he have 
moose.’' 

At this decision he was off, and the young mis- 
sionary went with him. 

Jonas kept his eyes on the path, and pointed out 
many little indications which his companion would 
never have noticed, which more and more convinced 
him that he was on the right trail. These convic- 
tions only added to the missionary’s dismay. Hor- 
ace Fitzgerald was his friend, and he did not wish 
to bring him into trouble; and yet why should he 
have used his gun and ax and knife ? He had plenty 
of his own. Was the piece of meat a ruse to divert 
the blame from himself, and place it upon the inno- 
cent preacher ? 

am glad to see you, young man.” 

Mr. Hewitt and Jonas started up from examining 
the ground, and were faced by the game warden. 

‘^By this happy meeting you have saved me a long 
journey to your house. Here is your summons ; the 
justice of peace will be at Duck Lake Hotel to- 
morrow. I want you to be promptly on hand at ten 
o’clock. This matter of moose poaching must be 
immediately attended to, and you had better make 
your story pretty plain, or I’ll have you up for per- 
jury as well as poaching.” 

After thus addressing, and distressing, the 
preacher, and giving a contemptuous look at his 
Indian companion, he turned and stalked away on 


24 


Duck Lake 


the path that led to the lake. Mr. Hewitt and Jonas 
hurried on to see if they could find any trace of 
Horace Fitzgerald. Mr. Hewitt was sure his friend 
could help him, even if he knew nothing of the kill- 
ing of the moose, for he himself was entirely igno- 
rant of all court proceedings. 

To his dismay, however, when he reached Mr. 
Fitzgerald’s home he found that his friend was away, 
and was not expected to be back until to-morrow. 
He did not know what to do. He did not wish 
to falsely accuse Mr. Fitzgerald, or even to leave 
the least shadow of suspicion, and yet he most 
urgently needed the presence of his friend. 

“Will you not leave a message for him?” asked 
the maid. 

“Yes, tell Mr. Fitzgerald that I am in some diffi- 
culty, and I have to meet a justice of peace at the 
Duck Lake Hotel to-morrow morning at ten o’clock. 
I should like to have him there with me. Please do 
not fail to tell him.” 

“If he is home in time I shall.” 

“Mr. Fitzgerald away, far?” asked Jonas. 

“He went to Sandy Bay, Jonas,” was the reply. 

Mr. Hewitt and Jonas bade the maid good day, 
and turned rather sadly for home. After they had 
walked a mile or so through the woods, and were 
upon a brow of a hill, Jonas suddenly stopped and 
said : 

“Why that?” 

Mr. Hewitt was instantly aroused, and, looking 


Duck Lake 


25 


in the direction indicated by Jonas, he saw a little 
flock of sheep in a clearing, near the woods on the 
other side. They were all huddled together in a 
bunch, and were racing around in a funny, whirlpool 
sort of fashion. 

‘‘Why that asked Jonas again. 

“What do you think is the matter with the 
sheep?” replied Mr. Hewitt. 

“Don’t know; see soon; bear, p’r’aps,” said the 
Indian. 

“Those are John Miller’s sheep, and we must 
save them,” said Mr. Hewitt, and he ran down the 
hill to the clearing. As he came to the edge of the 
forest the sheep saw him, and at the sight of a man 
they seemed to find their wits. Then they all turned 
and ran as hard as they could across the field toward 
their barn. 

From behind some underbrush, where he seemed 
to be half hiding and half mesmerizing the silly 
sheep, up sprang a big black bear. He ran for the 
nearest point of the woods, and, as far as Mr. Hewitt 
was concerned, was gone. The young preacher was 
delighted at his rescue, and would have gone to his 
parishioners with the news of the bear, but when 
he turned he could not see any sign of Jonas. 
Where he was he knew not, and so Mr. Hewitt 
hastily retraced his steps to the top of the hill. But 
Jonas was not there. Mr. Hewitt then thought that 
Jonas had wandered on toward the parsonage, near 
which lay his canoe; so he hurried along the path. 


26 


Duck Lake 


As he stood on a knoll near his little home a most 
extraordinary scene presented itself to him. There 
was Jonas rushing through the forest and the bear 
after him. Jonas did not act like a frightened man 
running for his life, for he dodged here and there 
and seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Mr. 
Hewitt was about to run to the rescue when he saw 
Jonas double on the bear and then back up against 
a tree. Bruin’s blood seemed to be thoroughly 
roused, and he rose on his haunches to attack his 
antagonist. Mr. Hewitt’s heart almost stood still. 
He thought it was all over with poor Jonas. He 
himself was helpless. He had no weapon, and even 
his gun was not now in his home. He could only 
pick up a club and hurry on with a wild desire to 
do something to help his friend. He saw the bear 
close with Jonas. Suddenly the bear’s paws went 
spasmodically up, and Jonas shouted : 

“Like that!” 

He wrenched a bloody hunting knife out of the 
bear’s ribs, as that denizen of the woods fell to the 
ground. Another convulsive shudder, and the bear 
was dead. Jonas’s knife had found its heart. 

“Whatever are you doing?” said Mr. Hewitt, as 
he ran breathlessly up to Jonas. 

“Gettin’ bear roast for venison you lost,” said 
Jonas. 

In spite of his fright Mr. Hewitt had to smile at 
this sally and wonder at Jonas’ skill and coolness. 

“But why did you run so ?” persisted the preacher. 


Duck Lake 


27 


“Make him carry his own roast here/’ said Jonas, 
with provoking imperturbability. 

“How did you get him to do that? He ran into 
the woods when I shouted. Where did you catch 
him, or, rather, where did he take after you?” 

Jonas’s knife was in the bear, and, while he 
was cleaning, skinning, and quartering it, by 
snatches Mr. Hewitt received the following infor- 
mation : Jonas saw the bear before Mr. Hewitt did, 
and he knew that he would run to a dense spruce 
grove to hide. He also knew that if he hurried he 
could intercept Bruin’s flight, and perhaps secure 
some good bear meat to replace the venison roast 
which Game Warden Fitzgerald had confiscated. 
Jonas thought that it would be far easier for the 
bear to carry his body to the neighborhood of the 
parsonage than for two young men to do so, and 
hence he determined that he would make Bruin be 
his own express wagon. When the bear was caught 
trying to kill sheep he slunk off like a dog caught 
egg stealing. Jonas overtook him in his flight, and 
by interfering and annoying him h^ aroused the 
fighting nature of the animal. Then he started for 
the parsonage, and the bear, like a small dog chasing 
a retreating traveler, followed Jonas. When Jonas 
was satisfied that the bear had done his duty he 
ran around a tree to make the beast more angry. 
Then, placing his back to the tree, he waited for it 
to come and embrace him. When the bear’s breath 
was in his face he gave him the knife in the heart. 


28 


Duck Lake 


Having finished his story, his work of clean- 
ing and cutting up the bear was also nearly done. 
He then handed Mr. Hewitt a splendid roast, and 
said : 

‘Tong run make hunger.’' . 

Mr. Hewitt took the hint, and the meat that Jonas 
offered him, and hurrying over to the parsonage 
prepared a good supper of the bear steaks which 
Bruin had carried through the woods. 

Jonas finished his work on the bear and brought 
it, in installments, to the parsonage, where he left it 
for the time being. 

While eating the supper Jonas said to his com- 
panion : 

“What like that meat the warden took? Like 
that?” pointing to the piece of meat from which the 
steaks had been cut. 

“Yes,” replied Mr. Hewitt, “like it for all the 
world. Only this meat is lighter, having more fat 
in it.” 

“Ugh,” said Jonas. 

After the meal the men again talked over the case 
and the best way to meet the justice. After discuss- 
ing the different phases of the matter they both 
came to the conclusion that their best hope lay in 
having Mr. Horace Fitzgerald with them. At this 
Jonas jpmped up and said : 

“Me go get him myself, p’r’aps, for sure.” 

“But I want you there to tell about the tracks,” 
replied the preacher. 


Duck Lake 


29 


‘‘Jonas will be there — see?” was his reply, as he 
took down his paddle. 

As he was leaving he picked up the piece of meat 
which was lying on the table, saying as he did so : 

“Jonas may be hungry before he see Mr. Fitz- 
gerald.” 

Then he quietly and quickly went out. 

Jonas did not go directly to Sandy Bay for Mr. 
Fitzgerald. He first paid a visit to the Duck Lake 
Hotel, as he considered that he had some dealings 
with the man who had looked so contemptuously at 
an Indian in the woods. Jonas had no difficulty in 
finding the room which the game warden occupied, 
and then, under the cloak of night, when that repre- 
sentative of the law was enjoying a sound Muskoka 
sleep — the Muskoka air has good sleeping properties 
— Jonas made his way into that room, and, leaving 
the bear meat, appropriated the haunch of venison 
which the warden had taken from Mr. Hewitt. As 
silently as he had come, Jonas made his way back 
to the lake, and then paddled as hard as he could 
for Sandy Bay. 

After Jonas left the parsonage a heavy wave of 
intense loneliness swept over Mr, Hewitt. He flung 
himself on his knees before his little lounge, and 
buried his face in his hands. A strange sense of 
oppressive darkness came upon him. It startled him 
and made him look up. Just over the lounge and 
the place where he was kneeling was the window of 
his log cabin, which faced the west. The autumn 


30 


Duck Lake 


sun had not set ; but the cloud banks, robed in the 
hue of deepest midnight, piled themselves up around 
the sun and obscured all the light. After this wall 
of darkness had overshadowed the world for a few 
minutes it seemed as if some gigantic power had 
taken hold of the inky cloud and torn it across, as 
a draper tears a web of cotton. The glories of the 
setting sun burst through. The ragged ends of the 
inky clouds turned, in the sunlight, to violet, crim- 
son, and gold. The scene fascinated Hewitt; his 
knees seemed to be riveted to the floor; but a hal- 
lowing sense of peace and companionship came to 
him. His heart was flooded with a new light. New 
hope came to his soul, and, throwing back his head, 
as his face glowed with divine emotion, he cried 
with the triumph of the psalmist : 

“ The Lord God is a sun and shield: 

The Lord will give grace and glory: 

No good thing will he withhold 
From them that walk uprightly.” 

The clouds passed away, the sun sank behind the 
verdant hills, and the autumn twilight came upon 
the land. 

Mr. Hewitt sprang from his knees. His despair 
had gone with the clouds, and his rich baritone voice 
rang out a favorite hymn: ‘‘There’s glory in my 
soul.” 

As he went around to do some household duty he 
remembered a promise he had made to go over to 
visit poor Mrs. Brown, and to sit with her boy 


Duck Lake 


31 


Charles, who was slowly sinking under the fell de- 
stroyer consumption. He was the fourth of the 
family to fall a victim to this disease. The eldest 
daughter had died, an elder son, and the husband; 
and now Charles, a boy who had given promise of 
more than usual strength and health, was at seven- 
teen years of age fast fading away under the same 
white plague. 

Mr. Hewitt brought out his horse, sprang on its 
back, and quickly rode to the widow's home, at 
which place he was always a welcome guest. 

‘‘Very glad to see you, Mr. Hewitt," said the poor 
mother, as her face brightened up to greet the smile 
and sympathetic look of her pastor. 

“How's Charles?" 

“He is very weak ; but he is always so glad when 
you come. He says you always bring a cheerful 
breeze with you. He always feels so much better 
when you come." 

The pastor did not wait to weigh, or even to 
accept, the compliment. He had been to that house 
so often that he hesitated not to push into the room 
where the sick boy sat propped up in a homemade 
invalid chair. 

With happy words he spoke to the boy, and with 
kind inquiries after the other members of the house- 
hold Mr. Hewitt soon put them all at ease. During 
the evening some of the neighbors, who knew that 
their pastor was to be at Mrs. Brown’s, came in both 
to have a talk with him and also to sympathize with 


32 


Duck Lake 


the widow. Mr. Hewitt was greatly pleased at this, 
and was soon very happy in their company. Their 
lives, plans, thoughts were of great interest to him. 
All his private cares and burdens were forgotten 
in his desire to help them. As he had their utmost 
confidence they did not hesitate to open their hearts 
to him. 

With words of encouragement to one, of advice 
to another, and of gentle warning to a third he 
replied to the statements given to him. All felt the 
love, sympathy, and helpfulness of his words; and 
though sometimes they felt rebuked of rashness, and 
even of sinfulness, they knew that he was right in 
his words, and that he had only spoken for their 
good. 

There was an accordion in the house. This Mr. 
Hewitt secured, and played several airs, and then led 
the company in singing some of the songs and 
hymns and psalms they had learned and loved. 
After a happy evening was thus spent, enjoyed by 
all, especially by the invalid, the loving pastor called 
them to prayer and addressed the Throne of Grace 
on behalf of each one present. After prayer the peo- 
ple shook hands with one another, and spoke a 
few words of affection and cheer to the needy one. 
Several of the visitors surreptitiously slipped some 
substantial and dainties for the family into Mrs. 
Brownes kitchen, making their gifts in such a way 
that the poor woman could only look but dare not 
speak her thanks. The tears of thanksgiving that 


Duck Lake 


33 


hung in her eyes were pearls of richest payment to 
the givers, and such as the Lord treasures in his 
remembrance. 

The company then separated for their homes. 
Mr. Hewitt stayed with Charles, and sat the vigil 
with him. The young men had much to say to each 
other ; eternity seemed so near. 


CHAPTER III 
Old Dave Dodge 

A t the earliest blush of dawn Mrs. Brown 
relieved her pastor. He soon found his 
horse and was on his way home. He gal- 
loped along the little road, and as he turned into the 
bush the sun arose above the horizon and lit up one 
of the most beautiful scenes that man ever beheld. 
In his enthusiasm Mr. Hewitt exclaimed : 

*Tt's a pathway for a king V* 

It was an autumn scene of rarest beauty. The 
wind had shaken the beeches, maples, and other trees 
that composed that bit of Muskoka woods, and their 
gorgeously colored leaves covered the ground. In 
the night a nipping frost and a passing cloud had 
joined their forces, and ere the morning sun had 
cast his brilliant beams through the limbs of the 
trees they had dropped a light shower of snow 
upon the leafy carpet. The fall had been so light 
and the leaves so laid that it seemed as if thousands 
of little golden and crimson cups, of many and 
varied shapes, were upturned and, in the morning 
sunbeams, were filled with liquid pearl. 

The rider reined his horse to a walk at this scene 
of entrancing beauty. With a heart full of wonder 
he exclaimed: 


Duck Lake 


35 


‘‘Orion and Pleiades can hardly show a more 
beautiful scene than earth has prepared for me to- 
day. The curtains of tinted clouds that at sunset 
God hung in his western sky were beautiful, but his 
carpet this morning is fairer far. Truly he spread- 
eth out the heavens at his pleasure, and the earth 
clothes herself in rich apparel at his word. Might 
and art have concerted together to please and praise 
their Master. The fall of the leaf is in his knowl- 
edge, and the Frost King is but his servant. They 
make clouds for his garments and wrap them up 
with the winds; they spread the snow as a carpet 
and remove it at his command. They speak of his 
glory, his skill, and his power; they call forth our 
wonder, our admiration, and our praise. But the 
love of Christ surpasses these. In him love as pure 
as the snow was nursed in a crimson bowl of suf- 
fering. His fingers moved the frost and guided the 
wind, but his arm and life brought salvation. May 
my life praise him !” 

Dolly was restless under her master, even if he 
were singing a psalm of praise, and when the word 
was given she sprang into a gallop, bounding over 
the uneven bush road like a deer, and soon reached 
her home. 

After seeing his horse carefully stabled and hap- 
pily eating her breakfast Mr. Hewitt went into the 
parsonage, and kindled a fire. He broiled a steak, 
and after eating it he threw himself upon the lounge 
for a rest. After a short nap he awoke. He went to 


36 


Duck Lake 


the lake, and kneeling at the bank had a refreshing 
wash. Then, returning to his house, where he fin- 
ished his morning toilet, he bowed in thankfulness 
for his many blessings to God, rejoicing that he who 
had spread the heavens and set the sun in his place 
was his God, his Father, and his Friend. Full of 
faith in his everlasting Friend, he set about to 
prepare himself to meet the game warden and the 
justice of peace at the Duck Lake Hotel. 

The house that bore the name of ‘‘Duck Lake 
Hotel’’ was a medium-sized frame building, fitted 
up for a few summer boarders, with a barroom 
at one end and a post office at the other. 

Dave Dodge, the proprietor and manager of this 
hotel, was a sour-hearted, scheming man of about 
fifty. Almost from the day of the arrival of Mr. 
Hewitt he and the proprietor had altercations, both 
declaring that their motives were purely for the ben- 
efit of the community. The preacher had denounced 
the disgusting beer parties and low dances that 
Dodge had in his barroom. Dodge had, in the 
early days, seen the delight that many men in the 
city had taken in sparring matches, and he was 
not going to have less attractions for his hotel. So, 
for the benefit of his summer guests, he got two of 
his lounging attaches, of whom he had quite a num- 
ber, well “primed” with whisky and set them to 
fighting. This brutal work Mr. Hewitt had de- 
nounced in scathing terms. To the credit of the 
boarders be it said they took the next means of 


Duck Lake 


37 


conveyance and left Dodge’s place. This action 
of the guests and the denunciation of the preacher 
made Dodge very angry. 

The latest conflict that Mr. Hewitt had had with 
Dodge was over the night school. Mr. Hewitt and 
the school-teacher desired to open a night school for 
the benefit of the young people in the neighborhood 
who had not had early opportunities to attend such 
places and now had to work all day for their living. 
Dodge had managed to get himself elected as a 
school trustee. There were two other trustees : one 
was a parishioner of Mr. Hewitt’s, an open-minded, 
decent man; the other was a good-natured sort of 
settler, with no mind of his own, no education, and 
no conscience. 

Dodge had talked of the school and its expenses 
until the people thought that he was going to work 
great reforms on the score of economy. In carrying 
his point on these lines he had reduced the school 
opportunities of the boys and girls to barely six 
months of the year. 

Mr. Hewitt thought that this was outrageous, 
in view both of the bright children whose oppor- 
tunities were curtailed and also of the liberal grants 
given by the government to encourage education. 

When Mr. Hewitt and the school-teacher had 
talked the matter over they came to the conclusion 
that if the trustees would open the school they would 
give lessons two nights a week. 

The people thought that this was a generous offer. 


38 


Duck Lake 


and Dodge also agreed with them ; for he reasoned 
that they were getting double the work out of the 
teacher, all for the same money. So the young 
men started the school. The teacher made his work 
so interesting that the school was popular from its 
inception. 

Dodge soon noticed that the school diminished 
the evening attendance at his barroom, and the 
amount spent in “drinks’^ and ‘‘treats” was corre- 
spondingly reduced. This must be rectified. So he 
at once started an agitation about the expense the 
young men were putting the community to in the 
way of lamps and oil. The teacher put the state- 
ment of expense before the parents of some of the 
young people who had been attending the school 
instead of the bar, and had, therefore, been showing 
marked improvement in their general home conduct. 
They at once started a subscription, and this ex- 
pense was quickly met. 

When this objection was overcome Dodge then 
agitated about the reckless wear and tear of the 
school property; the desks were made only for chil- 
dren, not for “grown-ups.” The whole of them 
will soon be “busted,” and they will be put to the 
expense of getting new ones. Public sentiment was 
against Dodge, and he was angry — in secret. So 
he took another tack. The school trustees had the 
handling of the school. He knew that he could not 
manage Mr. Hewitt’s friend ; but he, with the other 
trustee, would be the majority. So he determined 


Duck Lake 


39 


to ‘Vork^’ him, which he succeeded in doing when 
he put his figure high enough. 

To try to win back popular favor, and to make 
amends for closing the school against the wishes 
of the majority of the people. Dodge came out with 
this ‘‘generous’' offer : 

“It is a good thing, and no mistake, to help the 
grown-ups to a bit more schoolin’. But the school- 
house is no place for ’em; the seats were never 
meant for ’em. Let ’em come to my barroom. It is 
a good large place, well lighted, and I’ll lend you 
some tables, chairs, and all — all free.” 

The people saw through the ruse. Mr. Hewitt 
publicly denounced Dodge and his scheme to entrap 
the young, and to tempt them with the fumes of 
destruction. His real motive was to get them into 
his hotel, and then he would induce them to “treat” 
at his bar. The young preacher said that he would 
no sooner advise his young men and maidens to go 
there than he would ask them to swim around 
Niagara’s whirlpool. 

“Well,” said Dodge, “you’ll come to my bar and 
enjoy my hospitality, or your good-for-nothing 
night meetin’s’ll stop.” 

“The meetings shall be held, sir, and our young 
people will not be tempted by the dangerous fumes 
of your dirty bar,” was Mr. Hewitt’s reply. 

The young preacher, the school-teacher, and many 
others were much disappointed in the third trustee. 
-They coaxed, pleaded, and argued; but all in vain. 


40 


Duck Lake 


He didn’t see any harm in their falling in with old 
Dodge’s scheme, and it would be a mighty saving 
to the community. He was not to be moved. 

‘Well,” said Mr. Hewitt, “the upshot of the thing 
is we’ll have to hold the night school outside of the 
schoolhouse. But where can we go?” 

That was a grave question, where the homes of 
the people were so small, and where even these were 
widely scattered. 

While wrestling with this problem Mr. Hewitt 
visited a lumberman across the portage about three 
miles from the hotel. This man had increased the 
number of the workmen in his sawmill, and having 
to find a suitable place in which to house them had 
built a commodious boarding house with a good- 
sized dining room. 

Mr. Hewitt made bold to ask for this, and, to his 
delight, received not only a hearty consent, but also 
sympathetic cooperation. The fact was at once 
made known, and the school reopened with brighter 
prospects of success. 

The removal of the school to a distance had 
caused a few of the men who lived around the hotel 
to drop off; but their places were taken by many 
who were nearer the sawmill. Some people who 
had been tenants on Dodge’s land threw up their 
property, and found better accommodation, with 
school opportunities for their children, across the 
portage. 

Taking the thing altogether, while Dodge had 


Duck Lake 


41 


won his point in closing the school, he was by far 
the loser in the end; and as he placed most of the 
success of his opponents to the tact and energy of 
Mr. Hewitt he was exceedingly angry with that 
young man, and also very desirous of humbling or 
getting rid of him. 

This was how matters stood between them when 
Mr. Hewitt set out, on that eventful morning, to 
meet the justice at his place. 

After the game warden had left Mr. Hewitt and 
Jonas in the woods he went to the Duck Lake Hotel. 
Here he was met by Dodge, who said : 

‘The justice will be here to-morrow.’’ 

“So he wrote me,” replied the warden. 

“Have you any business with him?” cautiously 
inquired Dodge. 

“Yes, I have caught a poacher. I am going to 
clean up this part of the country of poaching. See 
if I don’t.” 

“Who have you caught?” asked Dodge, with in- 
tense interest. 

“That young preacher, across the bay.” 

At this Dave gave a low whistle of surprise and 
also of relief, for fear had risen at the mention of 
bringing a poacher to justice. Then a satanic grin 
came over his face, and he assumed a most knowing 
air. 

“Do you know anything about this fellow ?” asked 
the warden. 

“Know him? Yes, I know him like a book. It’s 


42 


Duck Lake 


just what I expected — ^you’d find him up to some 
devilment.” 

“What do you know about him ?” asked the war- 
den, ready for any information that would assist 
him in prosecuting his case. 

“He’s the veriest hypocritical preacher that ever 
struck these parts. He had some dirty schemes on 
hand, I knew, when he wouldn’t board with a settler, 
though there was a many that would ’a’ taken him 
in. He lives in his log house alone. Laws only 
know’s what he’s doin’ there. Just as like done 
most of the poachin’ around here. He’s been seen 
going home late at night, whistlin’ when he thought 
no one was around — like as not had a deer in front 
of him, over his horse. Then he’s keepin’ company 
with that sly, sneakin’ Indian that pretends to catch 
fish for a living, but, between you and me, he and 
the preacher schemes and does a lot of devilment.” 

The warden was prejudiced against the young 
preacher because of his stubborn denials of “facts,” 
as he called them; and as he knew nothing detri- 
mental to Dodge he was quite ready to accept these 
lies and innuendoes, almost without questioning. 
He, however, asked: 

“Will you swear to your statements? Can you 
prove them ?” 

“Prove ’em! Well, I should say! Lanky, call 
Huddy out of the bar, and come here.” 

The man addressed was a tall, thin man who was 
at that moment leaning against the barroom door. 


Duck Lake 


43 


He did as he was bidden. As the two young men 
came up Dodge told them that the young missionary 
had been summoned for poaching, and also what he 
had said about the young man ; and then added that 
the warden wanted some one to back up his state- 
ments. 

The men were ready to corroborate anything that 
Dodge said, and followed his words as well as they 
could. 

The warden gravely thanked Dodge for his in- 
formation, and asked him to be on hand on the 
morrow, and to have these “gentlemen"’ there, as 
their statements might be of some assistance to him. 

When he was gone Dodge led the men into the 
bar. He poured out a stiff glass of brandy for him- 
self and drank it. Then, with a leer, he asked the 
men what they would have. Each took a glass of 
whisky, and as they were drinking Dodge hissed : 

“WeVe got that preachin’ cur by the throat now. 
What a gull that new warden is! If we can only 
load the moose all on the preacher, eh! Get him 
out ; then the warden will go out for a rest, and we 
can get to work again.” 

“He may be a gull, Davy,” said Lanky, “but 
he’s evidently a weasel after poachers. I wonder 
he hasn’t got on to the two you bagged last week. 
I’ll bet they’re in your cellar now, and’ll spoil before 
you get ’em out. But how ever has he got hold of 
the preacher? I never knowed him to fire a gun. 
He’s no sport ; though he’s a cocky little fighter, and 


44 


Duck Lake 


he's a brave preacher on the school question, aint 
he, Dave?" 

This sally made Dodge very angry, and he would 
have hit Lanky had not Huddy stopped him, saying : 

‘‘Don't be a fool, Dave. Now you've got the lad 
on the hip, get your yarns down pat, and let us hear 
'em. The justice may ask us stiff questions, and get 
us muddled if you don't." 

This answer cooled Dodge's anger a little, and the 
men set to work to gather fictitious proof for the 
statements made, and see if they could not add other 
damaging accusations. 

The warden noted the points that Dodge and his 
men had given him, and carefully wove them into 
his indictment, which he prepared with elaborate 
care to deliver to the justice at the trial. 

As Mr. Hewitt hurried along the bush road to his 
trial he was so assured of his innocence, of meeting 
Jonas and Horace Fitzgerald, and of having the 
matter easily cleared up that he was quite light- 
hearted. He had made no efforts to bring friends 
to uphold him, or to testify to his good character; 
the necessity of such a thing never entered into his 
mind. The morning was beautiful ; the sunshine 
glistened and played with the dewdrops, and the 
forest seemed full of gladness. 

As the young preacher was walking along, drink- 
ing in the beauty and song of nature, he was at- 
tracted by a little scene that presented itself to him. 
He was walking on the brow of a little hill that 


Duck Lake 


45 


abruptly descended to his right. At one time, per- 
haps, a stream had run along the bottom of the 
valley; but now it was dry and partly filled with 
leaves. The root of a large tree had elbowed its 
way out of the side of the hill. This made a delight- 
ful place for a rabbit’s home. A pretty bunny had 
burrowed her nest under the root, and just as Mr. 
Hewitt came along her little brood were out for 
a frolic in the leaves, while she, from a point of van- 
tage, watched, with pleased and matronly content- 
ment, their gambols. 

The wind was blowing from them to Mr. Hewitt, 
so they did not catch his scent, as he paused a 
moment to see them. He had not watched them 
long before he became aware that there was another 
watcher. A sly old fox had his eyes upon the 
mother, and was cautiously creeping up until he 
could get within springing distance. He was intent 
upon his prey, and being lower than the young 
preacher he was unaware of his presence. The ac- 
tions of the fox were so sly and quick that it seemed 
but a moment from the time that Mr. Hewitt first 
observed him till he was ready to spring upon the 
rabbit. 

With his promptness to help, Mr. Hewitt shouted, 
snatched up a stick, and jumped to rescue the 
mother. The fox, startled and taken completely by 
surprise, abandoned his purpose and turned and fled. 
Mr. Hewitt threw his stick, and although striking 
the fox it did not stop him, and he was soon lost in 


46 


Duck Lake 


the forest. When the preacher looked around the 
rabbits had also disappeared. 

Mr. Hewitt felt pleased that he had been per- 
mitted to save a mother to her little ones. He might 
have taken warning that he, the pastor of a flock, 
was also watched by a veritable fox ; but in his faith 
and light-heartedness such a lesson did not impress 
itself upon him. On he went, whistling, and think- 
ing more of the beauties of nature and the majesty 
and power of nature's God than of his trial and his 
defense. 

As he turned the road, and the hotel came into 
view, the young preacher, for the first time, thought 
that his old enemy. Dodge, the proprietor, might 
influence the justice against him. Still, he hoped 
that the administrator of the laws of the country 
would be above such influence. 

The warden was awaiting his coming in the bar- 
room of the hotel, where Dodge had placed a table 
and some benches for the trial. The justice, accom- 
panied by a sworn constable, had also arrived, and 
was anxious to get through the business as quickly 
as possible, so that he might fulfill another appoint- 
ment. 


CHAPTER IV 
The Backwoods Trial 

T he warden greeted Mr. Hewitt in a 
friendly way, told him that he was glad 
to see he was so promptly on hand, and 
then presented him to the justice. Mr. Hewitt told 
them that he had one request to make, and when 
asked what it was said that he did not wish to be 
tried in Dodge’s barroom, amid its disagreeable 
fumes. The justice smiled, but the warden agreed 
that it was not a very desirable place in which to 
meet. 

The justice asked Dodge for another room. 
Dodge swore a little, and said that the time the 
justice was there before he held his court in his 
barroom. 

‘"But,” said the justice, “weVe got a preacher to 
try, and we must consider the cloth.” 

Dodge cursed the preacher up and down, and said 
he could go into the bar as well as any other sin- 
ner. He hadn’t another room in the house large 
enough, unless it was the kitchen. 

‘We’ll go into the kitchen, then, if it will please 
you, sir,” said Mr. Hewitt, calmly addressing the 
justice. 

“All right, Dave, put the table and chairs into the 


48 


Duck Lake 


kitchen, and hurry up. Come on, Fitzgerald, and 
let us get to business at once.” 

Mr. Hewitt looked anxiously around. There was 
neither Horace Fitzgerald nor Jonas; not even one 
man whom he could call a friend, and from whom 
he could expect a word of advice or sympathy. For 
a moment his strength seemed to leave him. He 
was hardly prepared for this ; but the sweet memory 
of last night's scene floated in upon him, and as the 
words of the psalmist again rang in his ears he 
upbraided himself for unbelief. New strength came 
to him, and with interest he followed the proceed- 
ings of this backwoods court under a county justice 
of peace. 

After Dodge had reluctantly prepared the kitchen 
for the court the justice, followed by the warden, 
Mr. Hewitt, the constable, and the hangers-on of 
the barroom, entered the house, and the business of 
the day was opened. 

The warden then took up his case against Mr. 
Hewitt for moose poaching, and said : 

“Your honor, I have a rather sad duty to per- 
form to-day; namely, to accuse of poaching moose 
a young man who is a licentiate of one of our prom- 
inent churches, and who, I believe, up to the time 
of his coming here, has had an honorable career. 
But, sir, I have such facts and evidence that it will 
be merely a matter of routine duty upon your part 
to receive it. Part of the evidence I shall give my- 
self, from my own observation; and I have also a 


Duck Lake 


49 


few witnesses who will testify to the general conduct 
and life of this young man since his arrival in these 
parts.” 

He then called upon Dodge and his men as wit- 
nesses. Their statements were merely repetitions 
of what Dodge had already said to the warden; 
made, however, more effective by more direct state- 
ments and apparent proof. 

Mr. Hewitt, whose faith in humanity had been 
shocked at Dodge’s previous actions, but not shat- 
tered, was almost dumb with surprise, amused, and 
yet saddened, that about his simple life and acts of 
kindness and self-sacrifice such abominable lies could 
be told. 

In summing up his evidence the warden said : 

‘‘Thus, sir, we find this young man, coming out 
here ostensibly to preach the gospel, but falling into 
the temptations of his surroundings, making his 
home, so-called a “parsonage,” a thief’s den, con- 
sorting with a thievish Indian, in whose company 
I saw him myself, and, under the cover of minis- 
tering to the eternal welfare of the neighboring peo- 
ple, robbing the country of its game. 

“As I have stated before — and the evidence lies 
before you: the venison, the gun, and knife — I 
caught this young man red-handed in the act, almost 
over the moose. He had barely disposed of a part 
of his deer, no doubt taken away by his Indian ac- 
complice, and he, thinking himself secure, after hav- 
ing lunched off that piece which you see, was taking 


50 


Duck Lake 


a nap, when I fortunately passed that way, saw the 
offal of the deer, followed the blood marks on the 
trail, and in this way most convincingly found the 
thief. 

‘‘While, sir, I beg you will have due regard for 
the youth of the poacher, it being his first offense, 
and also his position as a minister of the gospel, I 
hope, sir, that you will remember the majesty of the 
law, which, in these parts, demands summary en- 
forcement to maintain its dignity and to retain 
proper regard therefor at the hands of the people.'^ 

Turning to the warden, the justice gravely said: 

“The fact that this young man has been trained 
for the ministry only adds to the heinousness of his 
crime. He, above others, should have known better 
than to have done such a thing, even from a higher 
motive than that of breaking his country's laws." 

This is what the warden really thought, and it 
pleased him very much to hear the justice say it. 

Then a grim smile played and rippled over the 
big weather-beaten face of that backwoods justice, 
and he emitted a succession of “Ahms" which de- 
cidedly aroused the spectators and told them that 
something unusual was coming. Then the smile 
flitted away, and he asked the warden, with the cool- 
est deliberation: 

“Is that the piece of meat which you took out 
of Mr. Hewitt’s home?" 

“Yes," the warden promptly replied. 

The spectators were now alert to catch every 


Duck Lake 


SI 


word and even every look of the justice’s. The 
justice never acted in the present way without pur- 
pose. His reference to the meat made many eyes 
study it curiously, and set many brains at work to 
fathom the justice’s meaning. As some saw that 
it was bear meat, and not venison, as the warden 
had so emphatically stated, a loud guffaw broke 
from several quarters. This piece of information 
was quickly passed from mouth to mouth, with in- 
creasing uproar. This greatly pleased the justice; 
then he continued talking to the warden. Half 
apologetically he said : 

‘'We backwoods people are simple, but we think 
we can tell what we have to eat. Your bloody ax 
and knife are telltales, but that meat, that meat! 
Come, warden, tell us again how you got it.” 

This made the spectators uproarious over the 
warden’s meat, which he had so pompously displayed 
as evidence of moose killing against the preacher. 
Even Dodge and his perjured parasite witnesses 
began to weaken when they felt the sympathy of the 
spectators turning against the warden, and also saw 
what the justice was alluding to. 

The warden was annoyed at the innuendoes and 
mock humility of the justice, and decidedly flushed 
at the laughter of the spectators, which he could not 
understand. A government offlcial to be so badg- 
ered by a county justice and jeered at by country 
clowns ! 

“We are waiting,” said the justice, who read the 


52 


Duck Lake 


warden’s thoughts with well-disguised amusement, 
‘‘to hear you tell us exactly how you came by that 
meat.” 

“I got it,” began the warden, “in Mr. Hewitt’s 
house, so-called a parsonage, and it is part of a large 
moose — ” 

A great laugh from the spectators greeted this 
last remark. The justice also smiled, but said, 
sternly ; 

“Silence!” 

Then, turning to the warden, as if wishing him 
to proceed with his evidence, he said, suggestively : 

“This is venison, eh?” 

“Yes,” replied the warden, with a good deal of 
hauteur. 

“Well, Mr. Fitzgerald, I fear that you are not a 
well-qualified epicure, for I think that that piece of 
meat is cut out of a bear, and — ” 

The kitchen was nearly a pandemonium. The 
warden was in a rage. 

“I traced the blood marks to that house,” he de- 
clared. 

“A bear has blood as well as a moose,” said the 
justice, in no wise disturbed at the noise or at the 
warden’s sudden rage. 

“Well, I’ll take you to the ground,” said the 
warden, “and I’ll show you the rest of the deer 
cached in the trees.” 

“Do,” said the justice, adding, “I declare this 
court adjourned to meet on our return.” 

\ 


Duck Lake 


53 


The sympathy of the simple-hearted, rough by- 
standers ran quickly to Mr. Hewitt. He had been 
a hero in their eyes because of his fight on the school 
question, and they respected him because of his 
brave and fearless preaching, but they had preferred 
to stand in with the man who served out their 
whisky. Now, however, they jumped to the con- 
clusion that the young preacher was the victim of 
some plot hatched in revenge by Dodge, who had 
somehow duped the green warden, and so when the 
justice dismissed the court, to manifest their sym- 
pathy with Mr. Hewitt, they picked him up on their 
shoulders and carried him out of the house. It was 
a moment of triumph for the young preacher, and 
the rough fellows let loose all their pent-up admira- 
tion, and, defying the power of Dodge, they told him 
what they thought of his brave deeds. 

At this turn of affairs, capped by the demonstra- 
tions of the men over Mr. Hewitt, Dodge was 
greatly chagrined. In the very worst of humor he 
drove out all who had lingered in the kitchen or on 
the doorstep, and he slammed the door upon them. 

When noon arrived, and a large number of men 
presented themselves with the justice and the war- 
den for dinner. Dodge's professional hospitality re- 
stored his good humor, which was increased when 
some of the men told him that the warden had 
shown the justice the cache in the trees, and that 
they had traced unmistakable signs of the moose’s 
blood to the parsonage. The justice had seen all 


54 


Duck Lake 


this, but they could find no trace of venison in the 
parsonage. There was bear meat there in abun- 
dance, but not an ounce of venison. These latter 
facts were, however, not told to Dodge. 

The news of the trial of the preacher had spread 
quickly around the county, and a number of Mr. 
Hewitt’s parishioners came up to look after their 
pastor. Mr. Miller took him and the constable, 
whom Mr. Hewitt specially invited, to dinner. 

When the court reassembled in the afternoon the 
warden was very stern. He would make no mis- 
takes this time, and he would have his revenge on 
the whole of them. The warden could not under- 
stand the change in the justice, especially in the 
matter of haste and expedition of business. In the 
morning he said he had another engagement he 
wished to fulfill, and he was in a hurry to get away. 
Now, however, he was very slow, deliberate, and 
rather too friendly, thought the warden, with the 
spectators. The justice knew that his other engage- 
ment could wait, but it was not often his privilege 
to have a green, conceited warden in the toils, and 
he was not going to spoil his fun by rushing matters 
through too quickly. 

Seeing some of Mr. Hewitt’s parishioners, the 
justice called upon several of them to tell what they 
knew of Mr. Hewitt’s movements, especially during 
the last few days. One of those called upon was 
Mr. Farley, who had gone for Mr. Hewitt to come 
and help his sick hired man. As he told of that ride 


Duck Lake 


55 


through the dark, over the rough roads, many a 
heart was thrilled, and there was some faint effort 
at a cheer. Mr. Miller followed, and told of Mr. 
Hewitt’s faithful attentions to Widow Brown and 
the dying Charlie. This story touched many of 
the rough hearts, and there were many wet eyes 
among the spectators and many a smothered “God 
bless him!” 

After one or two others had spoken the warden 
again took up the prosecution. It was mostly a 
repetition of his former address, with all reference 
to the haunch of venison carefully left out. He 
would make no mistake this time. Just as he was 
finishing there was a sudden commotion around the 
kitchen door, and in burst Horace Fitzgerald, almost 
out of breath, followed by Jonas. 

“What’s all this nonsense about the preacher’s 
shooting moose?” demanded Horace, breathlessly. 

“Don’t interrupt the court, Horace,” said the 
warden, taking his cousin by the hand and trying to 
quiet him. “I caught the young preacher poaching 
moose.” 

“You never did,” said Horace, emphatically. 

“But I did,” insisted the warden, “and I have 
proven it to the justice.” 

“Well, I’ll improve it again for you. What have 
you proven to the justice?” 

“That I saw the remains of the moose near 
Hewitt’s place, and traced the blood marks to his 
house. Isn’t that evidence enough, especially when 


56 


Duck Lake 


I found the ax and knife which he used, and the 
man himself almost on the spot/’ 

‘‘No, sir, that is not evidence enough,” said 
Horace. 

“But I caught him on the spot,” insisted the 
warden. 

“He had just returned from his Christly work, 
then,” declared the thoroughly aroused Mr. Horace 
Fitzgerald. 

“Well,” said the justice, “a moose has been killed 
near the young man’s home, and Mr. Hewitt’s tools 
seem to have been used. The question now is. Who 
killed the moose?” 

“I did it, sir,” said Horace, straightening himself 
up, “I did it. I went to pay Mr. Hewitt a visit, 
but he was away. Jonas here can tell you where, 
if you want to know, or ask Mr. Hewitt himself. 
I went into his place to rest, and saw his gun. I 
wanted to try the weapon, and that moose was the 
first thing that I saw to shoot. I gave Mr. Hewitt 
a haunch of venison for the use of the gun.” Then, 
noticing the piece of bear meat, he said to the 
justice: “What have you got this bear meat here 
for?” 

“O,” said he, amid the laughter of the crowd and 
before the crimson cheeks of the warden, “this is a 
piece of meat that the warden has exhibited for your 
haunch of venison. It must have strangely disap- 
peared, for when I visited Mr. Hewitt’s place I saw 
plenty of bear meat, but no venison. However, on 


Duck Lake 


57 


your confession, Mr. Fitzgerald,’’ said the justice, 
with heroic deliberation, ^‘that you have shot a moose 
out of season, I shall have to fine you.” 

‘Tine away,” said Horace, “only don’t go and 
accuse an innocent man, a lover of mankind, and a 
noble soul all round.” 

“But the hotel keeper, here, swears to seeing him 
with a thievish Indian taking moose to his house at 
night.” 

The justice knew that these were lies, but he 
wished to draw Horace out a little. 

“Dodge has spoken falsely, then,” said Horace. 
“His name should never be mentioned in the same 
breath with that of that splendid young Indian. 
Just think, that man has paddled and portaged all 
night to get me, and, without waiting either to eat 
or rest, has hurried me here to rescue Mr. Hewitt 
from these false accusations. Has any one of you 
done a nobler thing? 

“And as to the lies about Mr. Hewitt’s bringing 
moose home at night. I’ll guarantee that old Dodge 
is the guilty party. Where was he, to see Mr. 
Hewitt at night, or any of his beer-soaked followers ? 
Mr. Hewitt was homeward bound from some deed 
of love and mercy, and if anybody had moose I’ll 
guarantee it was old Davey Dodge.” 

“You’re right, Mr. Horace,” said Jonas, whose 
delight was shaking even his Indian imperturba- 
bility, and most of the spectators now sympathized 
with him. 


58 


Duck Lake 


Jonas was near the door that led to the cellar, 
which was partly open ; and he added : 

‘‘Ven’son down there, pV’aps, for sure; me smell 
him hard.” 

‘'Get out,” shouted Dodge. 

“ril no get out for you, Dave Dodge. Ven’son 
there,” said Jonas, in a way that made Dodge 
keep back the hand which he had lifted to strike 
him. 

Horace understood the meaning of Jonas’s words, 
and said: 

“I accuse this man also of poaching, and demand 
that his cellar be searched.” 

There was some parley over this, but Horace won 
his point. He demanded that the constable should 
take charge of Dodge, while Jonas and the warden 
be sent to search the cellar. 

These two men quickly returned, and stated that 
the bodies of two large moose, lately shot, were 
there. 

“That means a forty-dollar fine, at least, with 
costs,” said the justice. 

“Watch that man, constable,” said Horace, “for 
he’s got to go with you, for he hasn’t the money, 
the old scoundrel. How much is my fine, justice? 
I want to get out of this mess, and go and see my 
wife.” 

“I’ll straighten that out, Horace,” said the war- 
den. “I am glad you have saved us from punishing 
an innocent man. I am very sorry that I have 


Duck Lake 


59 


falsely accused you, Mr. Hewitt. I shall return 
your knife and rifle. I’ll send them over to you by 
Jonas. And as for him, I hope that I can secure 
his assistance. I want just such a man as he.” 

‘‘Well,” said Mr. Horace Fitzgerald, laughingly, 
to his cousin, “it is a pleasure to see your conceit 
humbled for once; but I shall pay my own fine, 
thank you. Perhaps, justice, my accusation of 
Dodge, which has so quickly brought conviction, 
will give me part of his fine. Just figure out the 
sum, and send me my bill or my check, and it will 
be promptly acknowledged.” 

Then, turning again to the warden, he said, slyly, 
as a reproof to his hasty accusation : 

“Next time you catch me shooting a moose give 
me time to get my breakfast ere you drag me before 
a justice.” 

The warden was very red in the face. He did not 
even turn to his cousin, but was looking at Mr. 
Hewitt for a reply to his apology. 

With his usual unselfishness the young preacher 
said : 

“I am glad that you have something for Jonas to 
do. You will find him as true as steel, and as honest 
as the sunlight.” 

“You better than that, Mr. Hewitt, for sure,” re- 
plied Jonas. 

The constable, justice, and Dodge were having 
some lively words between them, in which the last- 
named “gentleman” was cursing the interference 


60 


Duck Lake 


and ‘^scent” of the Indian, and also calling male- 
dictions down upon the laws of the land. 

Horace gave Jonas a pat on the back, and said: 

‘^Stick to the warden. YouVe well fixed now, old 
boy.^' Then, slipping his hand under Mr. Hewitt's 
arm, he said: 

‘‘Come, let us get out of this." 

And they went home to supper. 



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CHUBB 


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Chubb 


CHAPTER I 

“The Cow Shall Feed with the Bear'’ 

« _ AHE cow and the bear shall feed/ " read 
I Mr. Hewitt, in the Sunday morning 
service ; “ ‘their young ones shall lie 
down together.' " 

Chubb turned in amazement and looked at the 
reader. His attention had been arrested when he had 
heard the preacher say “wolf" and “lamb," but the 
connection escaped him. He caught the above 
words of Isaiah's glowing prophecy, and they photo- 
graphed their images instantly upon his mind. 

Chubb was a shy boy and always sat near the 
door. He liked the preacher well enough, but he 
felt safer when the door to the woods was open. 
He was a child of the forest, and at the slightest 
sign of danger he would fly to his leafy home. It 
was his refuge, his strong tower. In fact, any little 
excuse, a dog's barking or a horse's neighing, caused 
him to leave the preaching service. Mr. Hewitt had 
often noticed this, and was several times about to 
reprove. But he wisely checked himself, his better 


64 


Duck Lake 


nature telling him that his present hearers were not 
to be won by reproof. The first notes of that harsh 
spirit might steel their shy natures against him, 
perhaps, forever. 

To-day, however, Mr. Hewitt noticed the intent 
face and eager eyes of Chubb. They always met 
him squarely when he looked toward the door. The 
preacher was thankful and prayed that the Holy 
Spirit would give him a special message for Chubb, 
that sturdy but shy child of the woods. His theme 
was the incoming of Christ’s kingdom of righteous- 
ness, peace, and love, and the overthrow of fear and 
hate and sin. He finished without any further ref- 
erences to bears and cows, and in this Chubb was 
greatly disappointed. But having been once aroused 
he was going to find out more about what he had 
heard. Was it true that a man had seen a bear 
and a cow feeding, and cubs and calves lying down 
together ? 

Chubb waited for the preacher that day. When 
Mr. Hewitt had shaken hands with his parishioners 
and was hurrying along the path through the bush 
he heard some one behind him. He turned and saw 
Chubb. He remembered again Chubb’s eager eyes 
and his own prayer on the boy’s behalf, and so he 
was very glad to see the little fellow coming to talk 
with him. 

‘‘Good morning, Chubb,” he said, heartily, “how 
are you to-day?” 

“Pretty good. You are going to Bethel ?” 


Duck Lake 


65 


“Yes, my boat is down here at the landing. 
Would you like to row over with me?'' 

“Dunno. Say!" he exclaimed, plunging directly 
into the subject that was on his mind, “wasn't the 
man crazy who wrote what you read in the Book 
to-day ?" 

“What man ?" 

“Why, the chap that said, ‘The cow shall feed 
with the bear, and their young ones shall lie down 
together.' " 

“That man was Isaiah, one of God's prophets." 

“But that's a funny idea of a cow and a bear 
feeding together." 

“Yes, Chubb, the whole is a wonderful prophecy 
of good times to come. Some of them have come, 
and who knows," added the optimistic preacher, 
“but we may see the grand fulfillment of what this 
godly man foresaw!" 

Chubb was greatly impressed, and walked along 
almost in silence. The day was warm and beautiful. 
The aroma of the woods was rich, almost heavy in 
its sweetness. Mr. Hewitt spoke of the trees, flow- 
ers, birds, lakes, God's day, and his Word. Chubb 
heard it all, and while believing it was all right, 
because Mr. Hewitt said so, he comprehended but 
little. His mind was really absorbed by a plan to 
test the prophecy he had heard. If he could only get 
a bear and her cub and a cow and her calf together ! 

When they reached the lake Chubb abruptly said, 
“Good-bye," and turned into the woods. 


CHAPTER II 
The Bear Trap 

A fter leaving Mr. Hewitt, Chubb sought 
his Indian friend, Jonas. This man was, 
as a rule, not easy to find, but good for- 
tune favored Chubb, and before he had gone very 
far he found Jonas. They had not met for some 
time, and so they were glad to see each other. After 
the first greetings were over Chubb asked a little 
abruptly : 

‘^Seen any bears lately 
‘^Some time ago.'’ 

‘Where?" 

“Over there," he said, pointing toward the west, 
where the forest was thick ; “in spruce — dark place." 
“tiave you got a bear trap ?" 

“No; make one." 

“Now?" asked Chubb. 

“Now," replied Jonas. 

So the two walked over to the spruce forest, and 
in a dark place, likely to be a hiding place for bears, 
they built a dead-fall. Into the side of a little hill 
they dug a hole, facing it with logs. Two heavy 
logs were placed in a slip so as to fall upon the 
curious bear that would attempt to enter. The trap 
was rough and heavy and clumsy; but it was such 
a thing that awakened the curiosity of bears. 


Duck Lake 


67 


The week that followed did not see Chubb at 
school, and very seldom at his home. Four times 
on Monday he visited his bear trap and three times 
on Tuesday, but the slip logs were still in the air, 
unmoved. 

To be near at hand Chubb built a rough shack 
for himself out of birch and poplar poles. He cov- 
ered the frame with birch bark and made a fine bed 
out of balsam boughs. Without leave one night he 
brought away from his home a blanket, a gun, and 
an ax. He also took fishing tackle, and with it 
caught what fish he needed to eat. Jonas visited him 
on Thursday, and was greatly surprised to see his 
hut. He was, however, pleased to partake of 
Chubb’s hospitality, as the boy invited him to sup- 
per and to stay overnight. Jonas was sorry to hear 
that Chubb had not had any luck with his bear trap. 
He suggested that Chubb get a bit of pork and after 
dragging it around the woods put it in the trap as 
a bait. 

Chubb paid a visit to his home the next evening. 
When questioned about his absence he merely re- 
marked, ‘‘Been at lodge.” This phrase now had a 
double meaning. What the parents thought of was 
the hunting lodge of the school-teacher. Having 
turned off the curious questions of his parents, Chubb 
asked about the cattle, and was told that one of the 
cows, which was about to calve, had been lost for 
some days. 

This bit of news was not unwelcome to Chubb, 


68 


Duck Lake 


and he resolved to find her and have her on hand 
for his experiment. 

Chubb stayed with his people on Saturday and 
helped them with their haying. On Sunday he went 
again to church. Mr. Hewitt’s theme was the para- 
ble of the sower, and his treatment was such as was 
very helpful to his hearers. He had certainly 
planted a strange seed in virile soil in Chubb. As 
Mr. Hewitt made no reference to his pet idea, refer- 
ring to no animals but a few birds that picked up 
the grain that fell by the wayside, Chubb did not 
think that there was anything in the sermon for 
him. During the day he secured some pork, put it 
into a bag, and cached it ready for the morrow. 

Monday morning he started off as if to school 
with his lunch. Seeing an old halter on the fence 
and some rope by the barn as he passed, he appro- 
priated them, thinking that they would come in 
handy to make a muzzle for the bear. 

When Chubb visited his trap that morning he 
could hardly believe his eyes. The slip logs were 
down, and on nearer approach he found a yearling 
bear crushed under the logs. But he was stone dead, 
and must have been there at least a day. 

With a good deal of effort Chubb got the logs up 
and the bear out. This was somewhat disappointing. 
He wanted a live bear. 

‘‘Got a bear, Chubb ?” 

Chubb turned his eyes to see the owner of the 
cheery voice. 


Duck Lake 


69 


“Yes, Jonas, but he’s dead.” 

“That’s all right. Save bullets.” 

Chubb was going to say something, but he bit his 
lip. Then quick as a flash a new idea struck him. 
He would stuff the bear or he would get the teacher, 
Mr. Green, to do it for him. 

“Jonas,” he said, “did you ever stuff a bear?” 

“Stuff him in my mouth when cook.” 

Chubb laughed. 

“No, not that way. I mean, did — well, have you 
not seen Mr. Green’s lodge and his birds?” 

“No.” 

“Then you ought.” 

The bear was dragged to Chubb’s lodge, cleaned, 
and hung up to a tree. 

Chubb went to school that afternoon. 

“I have missed you, Chubb,” said the teacher, 
kindly ; “where have you been ?” 

“Hayin’ and studyin’.” 

“What are you studying now?” 

“Cows and bears.” 

“Good subjects. Isn’t it about time you came 
again to my lodge?” 

“Will go to-night.” 

So it was settled, and Chubb spent that night with 
Mr. Green. 


CHAPTER III 
Back to Nature 

HE stipend offered for teaching school at 



Duck Lake was not such as induced men 


to be numerous among the applicants. But 


this year there had been one man, and he had been 
successful in securing the appointment. This man 
was Sheldon Green. Tall, thin, hollow-cheeked, he 
had come to Muskoka for his health. Threatened 
with a consumption, he had been told that the high- 
lands of Ontario had the atmosphere to restore his 
health if he would make proper use of it. He had 
therefore applied, and was successful in being ap- 
pointed to the Duck Lake school. 

Mr. Green opened his school and began to teach 
in the stereotyped way. His physicians had given 
him explicit instructions to keep out in the open 
air as much as possible and urged him to cultivate 
sport and other outdoor attractions. But he was 
under contract to put in a certain number of hours 
at school with his scholars, and he did so faithfully 
— at first. 

He began his educational career at Duck Lake 
with a bare dozen of indifferent scholars, rough, shy, 
and ill-kempt, and adopting the old-fashioned meth- 
ods he had the usual success with rebellious scholars. 


Duck Lake 


71 


Within a few weeks, however, his methods, learned 
in good model schools, underwent considerable alter- 
ation in his hands. When the sessions for inter- 
mission came he went out with his pupils, taught 
them games, and took part in them. In the freer 
conversation of the play hour he found that some of 
the boys who were apparently the most stupid at 
their lessons were very well informed in the facts 
of nature. The answers of these young woodsmen 
interested him greatly, and by them much instruc- 
tion in natural history, botany, and woodcraft was 
received and imparted. 

These outside conversations of the teacher and 
scholars became eagerly anticipated by all concerned, 
and the intermissions on fine days were considerably 
lengthened. The flora of the country was searched, 
and grasses and mosses, ferns and flowers, leaves of 
trees, lichens and fungi, were made to yield hostages 
to these searchers of truth. 

The settlers wondered at their children’s eagerness 
to get away to school, and older boys and girls began 
to ask permission to attend school once more. In 
this way the attendance increased to a score, and 
was now well on into the second score. 

One day Chubb almost disorganized the school, 
and suddenly enlarged the teacher’s horizon of 
efforts and work. 

Chubb did not arrive at school that day until re- 
cess. He then appeared, driving a little black and 
white animal. Around its neck and left shoulder 


72 


Duck Lake 


was a rope. With a stick Chubb kept it moving 
reluctantly toward the school. 

As soon as they saw him the children ran out and 
gathered around him and his captive. 

‘‘Look out/' said Chubb to some who, he thought, 
were getting too close ; look out, or he'll shoot you." 

“What have you got there, Chubb?" asked the 
teacher. 

“A new subject to study," said Chubb, adopting 
the teacher's language. 

The teacher came rather boldly and suddenly for- 
ward, and Chubb's little animal crouched and his 
dark brown hairs were almost lost in a forest of 
white bristles. 

“A porcupine," said one of the boys. 

The teacher touched it with the toe of his boot, 
and got a slap on his leg with its tail that sent one 
or two of the quills into his flesh. With an excla- 
mation of pain and surprise he drew back his foot 
and picked the quills out of his shin. Chubb was 
rather dismayed that the teacher had been hurt, and 
feared that he would suffer greater punishment for 
being late. 

“Where did you get him?" asked the teacher, 
kindly. 

The tone of voice relieved Chubb's fear somewhat. 

“Roped him in the lake." 

“ ‘Roped him in the lake !' " exclaimed the teacher. 

“Yes. I was paddling over to school, and I saw 
him swimming toward an island. I paddled around 


Duck Lake 


73 


him until I tired him a bit. Then I slipped this rope 
around him and brought him to land. He walked 
awful slow and so made me late.’’ 

The teacher first smiled and then suddenly grew 
stern. 

‘‘Yes,” he said, “you are very late to-day. Would 
you have got here in time if you had come right 
through ?” 

“Yes, sir,” said Chubb, eagerly, for he thought 
there was some hope of pardon in the master’s 
voice; “been here in lots of time.” 

“Did you know that' you were running a risk of 
being late?” 

“Never thought of it till I saw you. I was so 
busy with the porcupine.” 

“And when you saw me you expected that I would 
punish you ?” 

“Dunno. You know when a fellow has caught a 
good thing.” 

“Yes, indeed, Chubb,” said the teacher, laughing, 
“I do. And I also know when to forgive a pupil for 
being late, and so I forgive you.” 

Chubb was greatly pleased at these words, and 
vowed that he would fight for that teacher whenever 
he was called upon. 

“But, Chubb,” added the teacher, “what are you 
going to do with your porcupine ?” 

“He’s for you to box up and teach us about.” 

“Well,” said the teacher, rubbing his chin in some 
dismay, “we’ll see about it. It is now time to go 


74 


Duck Lake 


in to school. Tie your porcupine to a tree and 
come in.’^ 

Chubb did as he was bid. Ere he entered the 
schoolhouse he looked back and saw the poor tired 
little animal settle down to rest. So he went con- 
tentedly to his lessons. 

The noon hour was one of great excitement. The 
boys were eager to establish a menagerie, and deter- 
mined to press their idea upon their teacher. They 
ate their lunches around the porcupine and told each 
other all the stories they had ever heard about por- 
cupines. Some morsels of food were given to the 
little captive, but none were so acceptable as the bits 
of rind that Chubb cut off the slabs of pork that were 
in his roughly made sandwiches. 

There was no recess in the afternoon, and so 
Chubb did not get out until four o’clock. When he 
and the others came out they saw no porcupine. 
There was the rope tied around the tree, neatly cut 
in two at the loop. Master Porcupine’s sharp teeth 
had cut through the rope, and he had escaped again 
to his freedom in the woods. 

Chubb was much chagrined. But the teacher con- 
soled him by telling him that it was wrong to kill 
porcupines or to take them from their native haunts. 
They could live where other animals could not, and 
many a hunter had been saved from starving to 
death by coming across a porcupine in a barren land. 
Then he promised the boys that, while he could not 
see his way to set up a menagerie, he would try to 


Duck Lake 


75 


help them start a small museum. For a few months 
during his college course he had stayed with the tax- 
idermist of the university and had learned something 
of his art. 

With the assistance of some of the boys he built a 
hunter's lodge in the forest, about two or three miles 
from the schoolhouse. With traps and snares he 
caught many birds and small four-footed animals. 
The boys delighted to help their teacher, and it be- 
came an object of rivalry among them who was to 
spend the night with the teacher in his hunting 
lodge. 

Chubb's turn came. He handled the tools with 
skill and mastered the use of the “medicines,” as the 
boys called them, with which the teacher “doctored” 
the skins. Proving himself an adept at this work, 
Chubb was longer and more frequently at the teach- 
er's lodge than any of the other boys. 

Thus it was that Chubb had been missed by the 
teacher and his absence from the lodge so keenly 
marked. The teacher was glad to welcome back his 
most enthusiastic pupil in taxidermy. 

The evening of Chubb's return to the lodge was 
also marked by a visit from Jonas. The Indian was 
greatly interested in what he saw. He had many 
questions to ask the teacher, and he stored up many 
more to ask Chubb when they were in the greater 
freedom of the woods. Near the close of the even- 
ing's visit Jonas suggested to Chubb: 

“Give bear meat for medicine.” 


76 


Duck Lake 


So the boy told Mr. Green that he and Jonas 
would like to get some of his medicaments to cure 
a hide, and offered some bear meat in exchange. To 
this the teacher readily agreed, and so some ‘‘medi- 
cine’^ was wrapped up and given to Jonas. 

That night Chubb imposed on his friendship with 
the teacher to borrow, without asking leave, some 
of his sewing needles and his big book on taxidermy 
with its numerous illustrations and colored plates. 
Having secured these ere the teacher rose, and after 
placing on the table a large piece of bear meat, he 
slipped away into the forest and was not seen again 
by the teacher for some time. 


CHAPTER IV 
The Cow and the Bear 

J ONAS had spent the night in Chubb’s lodge, 
and when the boy returned in the morning the 
Indian was eating his breakfast. After enjoy- 
ing a meal of bear steaks Chubb and his friend vis- 
ited the bear trap, reset it, and baited it with pork. 
Jonas made Chubb a wooden frame on which to 
build up his bear, then he started out to dispose of 
the rest of the bear meat among the settlers. 

Chubb worked carefully on his bearskin and 
cleaned it thoroughly. Then he secured from a 
stack in a clearing some good dry hay for stuffing. 
While going for the hay Chubb kept a sharp lookout 
for the lost cow, and when he was returning with his 
bundle of hay he was delighted to see her. 

She was a lively beast at any time, and now she 
was doubly alert. Cattle that are allowed to run 
loose in the bush ruffle up and are much more active 
and spirited than the stall-fed ; and with head up and 
ears alert Chubb saw the cow look at him. The way 
in which she held her horns told him to be careful 
how he approached. All this Chubb noticed and 
was glad. He did approach her and gave her a few 
wisps of his hay. But he almost dropped his bundle 
in delight when he got beside her, for from out the 
trees there bounded toward them a lively little calf. 


78 


Duck Lake 


By driving and coaxing, Chubb got the cow near 
his lodge. Then he tied her to a tree with a rope 
and kept her to be introduced to a bear. He was 
blessed in the meantime, for the milk the cow gave 
him made a great addition to his regular diet. 

But Bossy did not have to wait long for her 
strange introduction. On the second afternoon after 
her arrival Chubb came dancing home from his trap. 
There was a big she-bear in it and a little cub out- 
side. Chubb hastily got out his halter and ropes. 
Untying the cow from the tree, he led her and the 
calf to his bear trap. When the cow scented the 
bear her eyes grew wild, and she almost pulled the 
rope out of Chubb’s hand. He succeeded, however, 
in tying her to a tree, and then he went over to the 
bear. The weight of the logs had crushed the bear 
almost senseless. Cautiously pulling away a side 
log, Chubb slipped inside and managed to get his 
halter over the bear’s head. She roused herself a 
little, but the logs held her fast. Chubb added a rope 
to the halter and tied it around the bear’s nose as 
well as her head. 

Having finished this work to his satisfaction, he 
lifted up the slip logs. Relieved of the weight that 
crushed her, the bear recovered her sense and was 
angry, but she could only roll over and groan in her 
pain. She roused herself very quickly when she 
saw Chubb near at hand and the cow not very far 
away. With every minute her strength increased, 
and so did her anger. 


Duck Lake 


79 


The cow was now frantically pulling at her rope. 
She would run around the tree this way and that, 
trying to get away; trying, also, to keep her calf 
in sight, and sometimes making as if she would like 
to have a drive at the bear. The bear could not see 
her cub, and as the cow was making such a fuss it 
seemed to think that the cow was the cause of all 
her trouble. It was greatly annoyed at the straps 
and ropes around its head and tore at them with its 
paws. The halter straps broke, and then, to Chubb’s 
horror, he saw the bear slip the ropes off its head. 
Thus free, the bear stalked over toward the cow. 
Whenever the bear moved the cow would wheel 
around and face it with her horns near the ground, 
ready for any attack. The bear had not fully recov- 
ered from its crushing, and therefore more slowly 
and cautiously approached the cow. When the bear 
rested the cow would raise her head and bellow to 
her calf and try to get away with it from that dan- 
gerous place. 

When near her antagonist the bear raised itself on 
its hind legs. This action caused the cow to make 
another frantic effort to get away from the tree. 
The rope broke, and she was free. With her tail in 
the air she charged the bear. The bear caught the 
cow’s horns in her paws and nearly broke her neck, 
but the cow’s charge was too furious to be stopped. 
One of her horns caught the bear’s paw and tore it. 
A stream of blood spurted over the cow’s nose. The 
smell of blood angered her still further, and she 


80 


Duck Lake 


charged again. This time she was more successful 
and sent a horn right between the bear’s ribs. 

With a groan of rage and pain the bear fell. The 
cow ran this way and that way in her excitement, 
bellowing all the while for her calf. 

Chubb thought that the bear was killed and went 
over to it. Though badly hurt, the bear turned sud- 
denly and caught Chubb by the arm. She nearly 
ground it to bits with her teeth. In his agony 
Chubb fell on the ground, while the bear raised itself 
up and stood over him. In its fury it clawed his 
shoulder and back. Chubb would have been killed 
had not the cow noticed the movement of her antag- 
onist. When she saw it she charged it again. Catch- 
ing the bear squarely on the side, she sent it rolling 
off the boy. 

Chubb, thus relieved, got up and ran as hard as 
his legs could carry him to his lodge. He had a few 
thoughts by the way, but they were not upon the vir- 
tues of prophecy. Overcome by fright and pain, he 
threw himself upon his bed of boughs and became 
unconscious. In this condition Jonas found him. 


CHAPTER V 
Chubb's Home 

M r. green did not miss his big book on 
taxidermy until a couple of days after 
Chubb's visit, but he somehow connected 
the book with Chubb, for the boy had shown a special 
fondness for it. Still he was surprised that Chubb 
had taken it without asking leave. It was a very 
valuable book, exceptionally well written and hand- 
somely gotten up with colored lithographs. So the 
teacher made inquiries for Chubb, but none of the 
children knew of the boy's whereabouts. 

About a week after Chubb's visit and disappear- 
ance the teacher walked several miles through the 
bush to Chubb's home. The house was made of 
pine logs, fairly well built. The barn and the sheds 
were in sad condition for want of completion and 
repair. Plow and harrow were exposed to the 
weather, while two half-fed, tired-looking oxen were 
lying on the side of a heap of manure. The garden 
gloried in its weeds. 

‘Toor Chubb!" sighed the teacher, “what inspi- 
ration did you get from this home?" 

Passing around to the back door, the teacher saw 
a girl of ten or eleven, though from her wan features 
she looked much older, carrying a baby and trying 
to pick up chips at the same time. 


82 


Duck Lake 


‘‘Hurry up with the wood!” rang out sharply 
from the house, and the owner of the shrill voice 
appeared almost immediately in the doorway. She 
was a rough-looking woman with a frowsy head of 
hair, a stranger for at least a week to a comb. Her 
feet were adorned with rusty, torn, unbuttoned 
shoes, while her dress was short and ragged. Her 
sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and her hands 
were covered with dough and flour. 

“O, the new teacher,” she said, changing her tone 
and manner as she saw Mr. Green approaching. 

“Yes; my name is Green, and yours is Mrs. More, 
I presume.” 

“Yes, sir, that’s our name.” 

The teacher made an effort to help Jennie in with 
her burden of chips and squalling baby. 

“Drop them chips and shake hands with the 
teacher,” the mother shouted to Jennie. “Where 
are your manners?” 

“What a bear!” thought Green; while Jennie on 
her part was almost overcome by fear and bashful- 
ness. 

“Jennie is doing all right,” suggested the teacher. 

“ ‘All right !’ ” repeated the mother. “I never 
seed her do a thing right. These children have no 
manners.” 

“And no mother to teach them,” said Green to 
himself, and his heart went out in pity for both 
Jennie and her brother Chubb. 

“Come in, won’t you?” asked Mrs. More. 


Duck Lake 


83 


‘Things is kinder rough, but now you’ve come this 
far, come right in.” 

Green entered. He wished for a hoe; the floor 
seemed to have never made the acquaintance of a 
broom. In the center of the room stood a rusty cook 
stove with broken damper, and before it a lad of 
five or six years of age was playing with a stick 
in the ashes. On a box near the stove rested a pan 
of dough, which the mother was working up for 
bread. When that worthy woman came back from 
scolding Jennie and inviting the teacher to enter she 
grabbed the little boy by the shoulder and whirled 
him around. This caused his stick to flip a lot of 
ashes over the pan of bread. 

“You young brat, you!” she exclaimed, and gave 
him a severe cuffing. Then she resumed her punch- 
ing at the dough — the ashes going in with the flour, 
Mrs. More never making the slightest effort to re- 
move them. 

“Dear me,” thought Green, “this country needs 
some one besides a school-teacher, for parents need 
instruction as well as children. Some Good Home 
Associations should send up some missionaries.” 

Green thought that he could not have been more 
uncomfortable in a bear’s den, so he plunged into his 
errand with a desire to be through with it and get 
away. 

“Where is Chubb, Mrs. More?” 

“Why,” said the astonished mother, straightening 
herself up from her pan and looking sharply at 


84 


Duck Lake 


the teacher, ''we thought he was with you in your 
hunt lodge ! The young brat, has he been truancing 
again? Just wait till I catch him! Fll hide him. 
But we haven't seen him for a whole blessed week. 
He said he was going to the lodge, and we thought 
it was yourn." 

Green saw that Airs. Alore was no wiser as to 
Chubb’s whereabouts than himself, but though he 
was greatly surprised he thought that for Chubb’s 
sake as well as his mother’s he had better quell any 
fears about the boy. 

"O, well,” he said, somewhat indifferently, "he 
was at school a little while ago, and I guess he’ll turn 
up all right.” 

"He usually does,” said Airs. Alore, very coolly, 
plunging her fists again into the dough. 

The teacher rose, patted the little boy on the head, 
and moved toward the door. When in the doorway 
he turned and said that he was glad to see them so 
well and that he must hurry on. 

"But you’ll stay for supper, won’t you ? I’ll soon 
have this bread ready for the oven, and when it’s 
cooked we’ll have supper.” 

The teacher’s eyes rested for a moment on the 
ashed dough, and then he replied : 

"No, I thank you. I cannot stay to-night. Good- 
bye.” 

Airs. Alore rubbed the dough off her hands and 
came to the door. She was greatly disappointed in 
the teacher and pressed him to stay, but he was firm. 


Duck Lake 


85 


‘*Good-bye, Bobby,” he said to the little fellow, 
patting him on the head. ‘‘Cheer up, my little girl,” 
he said, turning to Jennie, and patting her cheek. 
“Tell your mother to let you come to school.” 

Then with a doff of his hat he went down the path, 
through a gap in the fence, and on into the woods. 


CHAPTER VI 
“No Tell” 


M' 


" R. GREEN, you no tell on Chubb 
“Why, Jonas, where is Chubb?” 

When he had not found Chubb in his 
miserable home — a place that roused his deepest 
sympathy with the rising inmates — the teacher took 
a new path through the woods, so as to reach his 
boarding house ere dark. After he had tramped 
for a couple of hours he had to pass near the spruce 
bush, and here before a rude poplar and birch-pole 
hut, six or seven miles from the More home, he was 
stopped by Jonas. 

“You no tell on Chubb?” repeated Jonas. “He 
in there. Want you.” 

The teacher hurried into the hut, and there on a 
bed of balsam boughs he saw Chubb. 

“The poor boy,” said the teacher, laying his hand 
on the boy's brow, “he is in a raging fever. What 


is the matter?” 

Jonas told him that he had been hurt by a bear. 
The teacher then carefully examined the wounds, 
and he noticed that they were severe and healing 
very badly. He had Jonas bring him some water 
from the lake, and he bathed the wounds. Then 
tearing his own white shirt into strips, for he was 


Duck Lake 


87 


miles from any home and linen, he bound up the 
wounded boy. 

With a sigh of relief and thankfulness Chubb 
opened his eyes and looked up. But when he recog- 
nized the teacher that sigh was quickly chased away 
by thoughts of fear and anxiety. 

‘Teacher,'' he stammered, “I've not been a good 
boy." 

“Never mind, Chubb," said the teacher, sooth- 
ingly. “Just you keep quiet and get well, and then 
we'll talk about it." 

“I took your book without asking. I was going 
to take it back when I got the bear stuffed. It's 
over there." He tried to point, but in raising his 
arm the pain was so great that it made him groan. 

“There, there, now, my boy, you must lie still. 
It will be all right, I am sure." 

Looking quickly around the place, the teacher saw 
the bearskin shaped up and partly stuffed. Beside 
it, lying open on a block of wood, he saw his pre- 
cious book on taxidermy. 

“I see you have been working and studying hard." 

“Teacher," said Chubb, anxiously — he was 
pleased with the teacher's kind words, but his mind 
was troubled about something else that would not let 
him rest — “teacher," he repeated, “don't tell the 
boys that a bear licked me — nor the folks — will 
you ?" 

He turned his head and looked up imploringly at 
the teacher. 


88 


Duck Lake 


'‘But you killed the bear. You have him partly 
stuffed.” 

"That isn’t the bear that did it,” he said, and 
looked to Jonas to explain. 

"Found big dead she-bear by our trap. Cub lying 
over it crying,” said Jonas. "Jonas caught cub. 
Fixed big bear. Big hole in bear’s side. No gun, 
no knife made it. Jonas dunno more.” 

Chubb turned excitedly. 

"Our red cow knocked the bear off me. She 
hooked it.” 

"Yes, for sure,” said Jonas, "make big hole in 
ribs.” 

Then Chubb’s fever came back with a rage, and 
in his ravings he muttered : 

"The cow and the bear shall feed, and their young 
ones shall lie down together.” 

"Whatever is up?” said the teacher to Jonas; "the 
lad is quoting Scripture.” 

"Dunno, for sure,” said Jonas. "Better see Mr. 
Hewitt about it.” 

"Good man to see anyway, and he is not more than 
four miles away.” 

"For sure. Jonas go find him.” 

And the Indian started off on a trot toward the 
parsonage. 


CHAPTER VII 
New Quarters 

O UITE a while before Jonas and the young 
preacher arrived Chubb had come back to 
his senses. Green was so curious about 
Chubb's experiences, and especially his quoting that 
Scripture, that, in spite of the boy's illness, he made 
Chubb tell him as well as he could all that had 
happened. 

When the two men entered Chubb's face was 
bright and the teacher was laughing heartily. 

‘AVhat is the matter now, Green?" asked the 
young preacher. 

‘^Matter of unfulfilled prophecy, I fancy," said the 
teacher, rising to greet the preacher. “There is 
work here for all of us," he added. “Chubb has 
been trying to negotiate an introduction between 
Mrs. Bear and Mistress Cow, but the two came into 
conflict — as some females will — and so he is now 
laid up for repairs." 

“No time for speechmaking. Green. How did 
the bear catch Chubb?" asked the preacher, pushing 
past the teacher. 

“Am I not trying to tell you?" was Green's laugh- 
ing reply. 

Jonas had told Mr. Hewitt that Chubb had been 


90 


Duck Lake 


torn by an old she-bear and that his face was ‘‘as hot 
as fire/’ So the preacher brought with him a roll 
of cotton for bandages, some ointment, and quinine. 

After administering some quinine Hewitt soon 
had his coat off and sleeves rolled up for work. He 
removed the blood-soaked bandages and cleansed 
the wounds. Seeing the shirt cotton on the boy, the 
preacher glanced at the teacher’s throat, and, miss- 
ing his shirt, realized what he had done. 

“No wonder you succeed with your pupils. Green,” 
he said. 

“Why?” asked the teacher, whose face was still 
wreathed with smiles. 

“A man who so readily sacrifices his shirt will 
and deserves to win the love of his pupils.” 

“Tut, man, there was no other bandage cloth 
around. But,” he added, with a twinkle, “that 
wasn’t in the prophecy you taught, was it ?” 

“What prophecy ? Talk so that I can understand. 
You are an enigma to me to-day. Here is a boy, one 
of your boys — ” 

“And yours.” 

“And mine, nearly had his life torn out of him 
and you stand laughing over him.” 

“And all because of prophecy !” 

“What prophecy?” 

“Well, be still and I will tell you. Do you remem- 
ber when you read Isaiah’s prophecy of the animals 
at a Sunday morning service in the Pine Bluff 
schoolhouse ?” 


Duck Lake 


91 


‘‘Yes, but what has that to do with Chubb?” 

“Pretty nearly everything just now. Do you re- 
member Chubb telling you of the funny idea of 
Isaiah in saying that a bear and a cow should feed 
together?” 

“What ? Do you mean that Chubb took that lit- 
erally and — ” 

“Yes, yes,” said the teacher, laughing heartily. 
Jonas was beginning to see a little of the fun, and 
also laughed in his quiet way. 

“Here, you fellows, get out of this,” said the 
young preacher, rising from Chubb’s side and mo- 
tioning with his right hand, dripping with blood 
and water, to the exit. 

“How are Chubb’s wounds doing?” asked the 
teacher, checking his laughter, as he stepped up and 
looked over the boy. 

“There is nothing to fear,” said the preacher, as 
he settled down again to his work, “if Chubb has 
good care. Chubb is going to know more about Isa- 
iah’s prophecy, and as my teaching caused Chubb to 
get hurt I’ll take him to my home. So you and Jonas 
can make me a stretcher as quickly as you can.” 

“But I’ve got something to say in this,” said the 
teacher. 

“Well, say it quickly.” 

“You’ve got other work to do, and you cannot be 
always with Chubb.” 

“Do you want to take him to his home?” 

“Heaven forbid,” said the teacher, “at least not 


92 


Duck Lake 


just yet. He’d die of dirt and neglect if he went 
there now.” 

‘‘Jonas will help me nurse him.” 

“Jonas help, for sure,” said the Indian, stepping 
forward. “Jonas get fish, get duck, get nice things 
for Chubb to eat.” 

“Good for you, Jonas. That is practical, and 
we’ll need help that way.” 

“And you can count on me for all medicine and 
clothing that Chubb needs,” said the teacher. “And 
I shall take the liberty of relieving you on Satur- 
days and Sundays.” 

“Then all is easy,” said the preacher; “eh, 
Chubb?” 

Chubb was a silent, patient, intent listener and 
observer in all that had passed. He did not under- 
stand why Mr. Green laughed so heartily, but he 
understood the preacher's look at the teacher’s col- 
larless throat, and he loved his teacher better than 
ever. Then Mr. Hewitt’s kindly touch almost hyp- 
notized Chubb’s pain away, and he felt a resignation 
under him such as he had never had before. 

As the teacher was going out with Jonas to make 
the stretcher Chubb said : 

“Teacher, you’ll not tell on me?” 

Green came back to the bedside. He told Mr. 
Hewitt of Chubb’s request not to make known his 
accident to his schoolmates or folks at home. After 
a little consultation the men told Chubb, to his 
great delight, that nothing less than a fatal turn 







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Then, by easy stages, Chubb was carried through the woods 
to the little log parsonage. 


Duck Lake 93 

in his illness would cause them to make known his 
accident. 

Jonas got a couple of stout poles and lashed cross- 
pieces to them. A blanket fastened over these com- 
pleted the stretcher. Then, by easy stages, Chubb 
was carried through the woods to the little log 
parsonage. 


CHAPTER VIII 

More Prophecy 

I N his new, clean quarters Chubb steadily im- 
proved. He made Jonas tell him all about the 
fish he brought in, where and when he caught 
them, and also where he shot the ducks and par- 
tridges, or snared the rabbits. He was eager to hear 
of his escapades with poachers of his majesty’s game, 
for Jonas was one of the warden’s best men. Chubb 
never tired of hearing Jonas describe his journey 
to Sandy Bay to get Mr. Horace Fitzgerald in order 
to save Mr. Hewitt from the grip of the law. 

During his convalescence Jonas and the teacher 
brought Chubb’s tools and chemicals, and also his 
partly stuffed bear, over to the parsonage. To 
Chubb’s great satisfaction the teacher finished the 
work for him, giving Chubb, as he did it, many 
valuable pointers in taxidermy. Chubb’s delight 
was nearly complete when the teacher affixed in the 
bear’s head a couple of greenish-colored glass eyes. 
Mr. Green had many a merry tale to tell about 
school, but none pleased Chubb so much as the 
teacher’s description of the commotion caused by 
his bringing a porcupine to school. 

Still above the others the boy’s interest grew in 
the young preacher. His kindly touch was a sur- 


Duck Lake 


95 


prise to Chubb. He had never before known such 
a thing. He was much impressed with the work and 
manner in which his amateur physician examined 
and treated him ; then the way in which he measured 
and poured out his decoctions interested Chubb 
greatly. It was a great thing, thought the patient, 
to “doctor’' the skins of birds and stuff a bear ; but 
to pour out medicines to make a sick boy well ! To 
kill and cure was great ; but to make one feel good 
was greater. To destroy was in the natural wildness 
of things; to build up and redeem was something 
above the common order of events. Thus the 
preacher, all unconsciously to himself, came into a 
large place in Chubb’s heart. 

One day, when the preacher was quietly reading 
his Bible beside his patient, Chubb said : 

“Mr. Hewitt, read again for me what the Book 
says about ‘the bear and the cow shall feed to- 
gether.’ ” 

“All right, Chubb, I shall.” 

He hoped that he could make the passage clear to 
him to-day. So he read the latter part of the sixty- 
fifth chapter of Isaiah, telling about the “new heav- 
ens and new earth” wherein “the wolf and the lamb 
shall feed together.” 

“Wished I’d begun with a wolf,” said Chubb. 

“Did you ever catch one ?” 

“Nope, but a pack nearly caught me and my 
father. It was when I was very little and we toted 
a load of hay into a lumber camp and we was late 


96 


Duck Lake 


getting home. The wolves broke into pa^s sheep pen 
two winters ago and cleaned out all our sheep. I 
don't believe that they are any better than bears 
with cows/' added Chubb, disgustedly. 

In spite of himself Mr. Hewitt had to laugh. 

“That man's crazy who wrote that," said Chubb, 
sturdily. “I don't believe a word of it." 

“Don't decide too quickly, Chubb. Isaiah is not 
writing of things as they are naturally found either 
in his day or ours. He says that all this is to take 
place in the ‘new heavens and new earth,' where 
righteousness, love, and truth dwell. It is a prophecy 
of a better day, but it may begin in our midst now. 
Love will cast out hatred and murder from our 
hearts. This beginning with us will go through all 
creation until murder is known no more, when even 
the wolf will change his murderous nature and be- 
come as docile as a lamb. But this is not all that 
this great writer says about animals. Let me read 
the other chapter." 

Then the preacher read the eleventh chapter, 
Chubb putting in a whistling comment as the ani- 
mals were told off to enjoy themselves in peace. 
When the reader had finished Chubb lay in silence 
for some time. Mr. Hewitt waited for him to 
speak. 

“ The wolf shall dwell with the lamb,' " he mut- 
tered. “ The cow shall feed with the bear, and their 
young ones shall lie down together.' ‘A little child 
shall lead them.' " 


Duck Lake 


97 


After repeating these passages over to himself 
he suddenly raised himself in his bed, and, turning 
to Mr. Hewitt, he said, earnestly: 

“Say, that’s great. I’d like to hunt ’em like 
Jonas ; I’d like to know of ’em and stuff ’em like the 
teacher ; but I’d like best of all to lead ’em.” 

“You may lead them some day, Chubb,” said the 
young preacher, with a look into the boy’s eyes that 
was a prayer and a hope. 

“How ?” asked the boy, eagerly. 

“By knowing the great Leader and being like 
Him.” 

“Who? Isaiah?” 

“The One of whom Isaiah wrote, the One on 
whom rested, as Isaiah says, ‘the spirit of wisdom 
and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, 
the spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the 
Lord.’ 

“Jonas knows,” continued the preacher, “where 
the ducks fly and where the fish swim ; so he applies 
his knowledge. He goes, catches, and kills them to 
make us food. That is one man. On him rests the 
spirit of knowledge and might. The teacher can 
take lines and figures, letters and words, and can 
find lessons and laws of God for us to learn. On 
him rests the spirit of understanding and counsel. 
That is another man. But it takes a third man to 
make the perfect child of God, the one who is to 
lead the rest, and this man has not only knowledge 
and counsel and might, but also the fear of the 


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Duck Lake 


Lord, which buds forth into a passionate love for 
God, for man, for all created things.” 

‘That's you,” said Chubb, following the preacher 
intently. 

“I hope I have some of this fear and love, Chubb, 
but Jonas is learning it, and I believe the teacher 
has much of it. You remember he tore his own shirt 
up to make bandages for you. His fear lest you 
should suffer and his love for you made him do it.” 

“And I love him for it,” said Chubb, as grateful 
tears sprang into his eyes. 

“So in most men three men seem to exist, though 
they do not all get equal development. There is 
the hunter who delights to chase and kill; but a 
man who gets no better than this will be little better 
than a bear or a wolf. He will live only a brute's 
life. The man of knowledge, the one who delights 
to analyze, compare, and draw conclusions, may be 
satisfied to see things as they are and not help to 
make them any better. His soul may be as black as 
midnight, and he may be cruel and vicious.” 

“And the third man?” said Chubb, impatient to 
hear of the last of the three men who all live in one 
man. 

“The third man is the man of aspiration, the man 
whose eye is on God, the man of prayer and Christ- 
like endeavor, who, seeking peace in his own soul, 
would teach all things to be at peace among them- 
selves. He fears God, and, Chubb, you may have 
this fear, too.” 


Duck Lake 


99 


“What? Fear? Fear makes cowards. Jonas 
isn’t a coward ; no more am 1.” 

“No more is the teacher; no more is Jesus Christ; 
or ‘the child who shall lead them.’ One kind of 
fear, fear of man, of animals, fear of getting your- 
self hurt, makes cowards ; but fear of God, fear of 
doing wrong, is a fear that causes you to forget 
yourself and makes you as brave as a lion.” 

“Then I want that fear.” 

“That’s right, Chubb. Desire it, ask God for it, 
and you shall have it. That fear means the best that 
is in man. Yes, it is better than is in man. It 
comes from God’s Spirit being in man, and he 
teaches us to love God and to love everything God 
has made; he teaches us to fear to treat anything 
wrongly or unkindly. It will be the effort of our 
lives to know and serve them ; to know animals and 
to master them by being a means of blessing to 
them.” 

“Blessing to a bear!” exclaimed Chubb, in sur- 
prise. “Why, a bear nearly killed me. I wished 
that I had killed it.” 

“There are worse bears, Chubb, than those that 
have fur coats on.” 

The preacher looked meaningly at the boy. 

“Do you mean my father and my mother?” said 
Chubb, his eyes flashing; “for if you do I’ll get right 
up and go home?” 

“Did I mention any names?” 

“No.” 


1 OFC, 


100 


Duck Lake 


‘'Well, then, whenever you meet anyone, whether 
father or mother, or anyone else, who treats you 
unkindly, remember that the bravest thing is not to 
fight back, but to patiently suffer, pray to God, and 
try to find out some way to be a blessing to them/' 

“But shouldn’t men fight and kill anything?” 

“If you and I met a bear we would not hesitate 
to kill it as quickly as we could. But I was going 
to tell you that, in calling to your assistance the three 
men who, I said, lived in every man, you should 
begin with the man of prayer, the man after God’s 
own heart. If you can conquer your enemy by 
love you have won a great victory. But if your 
man of knowledge tells you that life is dependent 
upon your efforts, whether to get food or to pre- 
serve life, then you should call your hunter and send 
him to work with all his powers.” 

“I’d kill wolves, too. They killed all my father’s 
sheep, the vermin! I’d kill every one of them, if 
I could.” 

“But, Chubb, if man had done so at the beginning 
you would have had no collie dog, like your Duncan. 
On every farm where there is a sheep and a dog the 
prophecy ‘the wolf shall dwell with the lamb’ is to 
that extent fulfilled.” 

“True for you, Mr. Hewitt. The dog a tame 
wolf, for sure!” said Jonas, as he entered and 
dropped a bag of game inside the door. 

“That was your ‘Amen,’ Jonas,” laughed the 
preacher. 


Duck Lake 


101 


‘‘Thus you see/’ continued Mr. Hewitt to Chubb, 
“that the sheep’s worst enemy has been turned by 
wisdom, love, and training into being his best friend 
and protector. There are other animals to be won. 
‘A child shall lead them,’ Chubb; why not you?” 

“Much good luck this week, Jonas?” asked the 
preacher, formally greeting his Indian friend. 

“Ah, huh,” was the laconic reply. 

“Can you stay a little while with Chubb ?” 

“Ah, huh,” said Jonas, and smiled with pleasure. 

Then, seizing the opportunity, Mr. Hewitt left 
Chubb in Jonas’s care while he hurried away to ful- 
fill some of his pastoral duties. 


CHAPTER IX 
Purchasing the Red Cow 

C HUBB had almost forgotten the cub that 
came with the old mother bear on that 
eventful day. Suddenly thinking of it when 
Jonas was his nurse, he asked : 

“When you found the dead bear by our trap, 
Jonas, did you see the cub?” 

“Yes, for sure.” 

“Did you catch it ?” 

“Yes, for sure.” 

“What did you do with it?” 

“Keep it for Chubb. He get well soon. Train 
it to lie down with the calf.” 

And the Indian’s eyes twinkled. 

“Do you believe that that can be done?” asked 
Chubb, almost springing out of bed and looking 
Jonas squarely in the face. 

“Chubb try again,” came from the almost imper- 
turbable man. 

“Yes, I will,” replied Chubb, subsiding under the 
blankets. 

“When Jonas is around.” 

“All right ; but where’s the calf ?” 

“Dunno. Gone home, p’r’aps, for sure.” 

With Mr. Hewitt’s permission the cub was 


Duck Lake 


103 


brought to the parsonage. He was a sturdy little 
fellow, about the size of a collie dog. Jonas had 
given him a few lessons so that he would now stand, 
when asked, upon his hind legs and walk around the 
room, turn somersaults, and do some other antics 
which were amusing in their clumsiness. 

This cub, with a new desire to repeat his experi- 
ment, helped Chubb’s convalescence; his improve- 
ment was now rapid. 

Jonas and the teacher made Chubb a big easy- 
chair, and on fine days he would sit outside in the 
sunshine. The cub was not far from him, and he 
would watch the little fellow and talk to him. 
Chubb’s arm had to be carefully kept in a sling, and 
his back was still so painful that he could not walk 
much or sit up for any length of time. So in spite 
of his new playmate he spent much of his time in 
bed. 

Chubb’s query about the calf caused Jonas, the 
next time his duties took him near the More clear- 
ing, to look into the place. He found Mrs. More 
and Jennie, the latter with her omnipresent burden, 
the baby, upon her back, out in the potato patch. 
Mrs. More was digging with a fork, and Jennie was 
picking up the potatoes and putting them into a bag. 

Not seeing any cattle, Jonas moved around to- 
ward the barn. Here, leaning against a corner of 
the weather-beaten but unfinished shed, he saw the 
proprietor himself, with folded arms, smoking. But 
he was not altogether indifferent to his surround- 


104 


/ 


Duck Lake 

ings. He kept a sharp eye upon the women in the 
field to see that they were not idle, and he saw Jonas 
almost as quickly as Jonas saw him. Seeing that 
he was discovered, Jonas came out of the woods and 
approached him at once. 

‘What do you want around here?’^ was More’s 
gruff reception. 

“Want to buy your red cow,” Jonas replied, with 
businesslike directness. 

The result was electric. Out of his mouth More 
took his pipe, and then keenly scrutinized his visitor. 

“Buy her!” he exclaimed, “buy my red cow! 
Why, man, what have you got to pay?” 

“Mr. More know a good bearskin when he see 
it?” 

“Guess I do.” 

“Know value?” 

“Yes, I’ve a pretty good idea.” 

Jonas unrolled the skin of Chubb’s bear before the 
father’s eyes. 

“Prime,” said Jonas. 

“Not too bad,” remarked the other. 

“Teacher say him worth twenty dollar.” 

“Don’t mention teacher to me!” exclaimed More, 
with an oath. “Look here, Jonas, with his tom- 
foolery he has kept Chubb away from here nigh 
onto three weeks. I’ve been nearly killed with 
hayin’ and harvestin’, and now the potatoes is to be 
gathered.” 

“Bearskin worth twenty dollar,” repeated Jonas, 


Duck Lake 105 

passing over More’s outburst as irrelevant. ‘^Red 
cow worth fifteen dollar. Trade even.” 

The red cow had not come home with her calf, 
and so More did not know of the existence of the 
latter or whether the cow was dead or alive. Here, 
he thought, was, however, a chance to make some- 
thing out of her ; and so after some more haggling, 
to keep Jonas from thinking he was any too ready 
to sell, he carefully rolled up the bearskin and put 
it inside of his barn. 

‘Tt’s a bargain, Jonas,” he said; ‘'now go and 
find the cow. She is somewheres in the woods.” 

“Ugh !” grunted Jonas. More expected some dis- 
approval, but ere Jonas could complain More said : 

“Jonas, I wish you’d go to the teacher and tell 
him to send Chubb home. I want him. The young 
rascal, he ought to be here to help his poor father 
pick potatoes. Have you seen him lately, Jonas?” 

“Yes, for sure.” 

“Where?” 

“Made bear trap for him.” 

“O, he’s been truancing again with you, has he? 
Just wait till I catch him ; if I don’t hide him ! Look 
here, Jonas, if I ever catch him with you I’ll thrash 
you, too.” 

Jonas smiled. 

“Tom More thrash Jonas — ha, ha!” said the In- 
dian, very quietly, taking a step forward and looking 
the white man squarely in the eyes. More stepped 
back quickly. 


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Duck Lake 


‘Then by Chubb’s trap,” continued Jonas, think- 
ing to raise some fear, if not kindly feelings, in the 
father’s heart, “Jonas find bear, dead she-bear. 
Claws filled with Chubb’s torn coat; but no Chubb.” 

“O, my boy is killed ! my boy is killed !” exclaimed 
the mother. 

While the men were bargaining Mrs. More had 
ordered Jennie to continue the work of digging and 
picking the potatoes, and then she came to hear what 
the men were talking about. When she was within 
hearing she caught Jonas’s last words. 

“O, the bear has killed him !” she continued, wail- 
ing. “O, my dear Charley. Tell me, will I never 
see him again?” 

Jonas was about to answer when she began her 
talking again. Her imagination and loquacity and 
endearments, seemingly, had no end. Jonas stood 
there, politely waiting for her to finish so that he 
might speak. 

“O, won’t you tell me? Then I’ll make you, you 
stupid Indian!” said the mother, suddenly drying 
her tears and stepping up to lay violent hands on the 
Indian. Jonas gently but firmly pushed her aside. 

“Jonas saw dead bear by trap, but Chubb not 
there,” he calmly repeated. Then, with a stately 
bow, he stepped back and went into the woods. 


CHAPTER X 

Jennie's Errand 

V BELIEVE it's all that teacher's doin'," said 

I Mrs. More to her husband after Jonas had 
disappeared. “If I were a man I'd make him 
leave my boy alone." 

“O, you shut up and get back to your potatoes." 

“I’ll know where my boy is, Tom More. Pretty 
father you be to let a school-teacher fill him with 
foolish notions and then get killed in the woods by 
a bear. O, my Charley!" and she sat down on a 
big stone and cried. 

“Come, woman, get up and get some more pota- 
toes in. It looks like a shower's cornin', and you 
can't pick in the mud.” 

So Mrs. More went back to her potato digging. 

“O, mother, what’s the matter? You’ve been 
crying," exclaimed little Jennie. 

“Shut up, you silly-head, and go along with your 
work,” was the poor little creature's rebuff. 

That night Jennie heard her father and mother 
talk about Chubb. They repeated all that Jonas had 
told them and added some surmises of their own. 
Poor Jennie’s heart was nearly bursting with sor- 
row and fright. Then, in reply to her mother's 
pleadings and crying, she heard her father declare : 


108 


Duck Lake 


‘‘If that boy doesn’t turn up in a day or two I’ll 
shoot that teacher.” 

There was no sleep for Jennie that night, and very 
early the next morning she left her rude bed, which 
was only a blanket on a rough mattress of straw. 
She ran as hard as her legs could carry her through 
the woods. The teacher boarded at Mr. Miller’s, 
so it was generally understood, and Jennie must find 
him. She must find out where Chubb is and tell 
her parents so that her father may not shoot the 
teacher. 

‘‘Look, look, pa! Well, I do declare, there’s Tom 
More’s little Jennie running, bare-headed and bare- 
legged, through the woods this cold morning!” 

Mrs. Miller had gone, pail in hand, to help her 
husband milk her cows. They were a thrifty pair, 
and got their work started and completed while some 
of their neighbors were beginning. 

“You’re right, wife. Take the poor little dear in 
and warm her up and see what is the matter.” 

Mrs. Miller hardly needed the kindly advice, but 
it was just like Miller to give it. He helped her 
along in the good work by catching up the shivering 
little girl and pressing her to his big heart. 

“Whatever brings this little lamb out such a driz- 
zly morning?” he asked, as he carried her into the 
house. 

Jennie’s teeth chattered so that she could not make 
herself understood. 


Duck Lake 


109 


After placing her in the big rocking-chair and 
drawing it up to the kitchen fire Mr. Miller went 
back to his work in the stable. Mrs. Miller busied 
herself to get a warm drink and flannels. Thor- 
oughly fagged out after her four-mile tramp through 
the wet woods, Jennie sank into a deep sleep, and 
when she awoke in the afternoon she found her- 
self in Mrs. Miller’s big bed with white sheets 
over her and wonderful pictures on the walls. As 
her eyes wandered from one to the other they fas- 
tened on one depicting the Saviour carrying a little 
lamb. 

Mrs. Miller’s quick ears heard Jennie moving, 
and she soon appeared carrying a bowl of steaming 
broth. 

‘‘You poor dear,” she said, soothingly, “you’ve 
had a long sleep. How is my pet now — ^better, eh?” 

“Is that Mr. Miller?” asked Jennie, abruptly, point- 
ing to the picture of the Saviour and the lamb. 

“No, dearie, that’s the blessed Jesus.” 

“Well, it’s the way Mr. Miller carried me, and he 
called me his lamb.” 

“Just like him, the good man.” 

“O, Mrs. Miller,” exclaimed Jennie, suddenly rec- 
ollecting her errand, “where’s Chubb ?” 

“I do not know, dearie. Have you lost him?” 

“Well, he hasn’t been home for ever so long.” 

“There, there, dearie, don’t get excited and spill 
your broth. You’ll be sick if you don’t mind. Chubb 
is a good boy, and he’ll come back all right.” 


no 


Duck Lake 


'‘O, Vm so glad,” said the little one, comforted. 
^‘But ma blames the teacher, and pa says if Chubb 
don’t come back to-day or to-morrow he’ll shoot the 
teacher.” 

‘^There now, dearie, be still. I just feared that 
your mind had been turned. Be very quiet, dearie. 
Just drink some more broth. It’s good, isn’t it? 
Now, hush, don’t say another word. We’ll hunt 
up Chubb for you, and we’ll see that the teacher is 
not hurt. Now lie down, and I’ll cover you up. 
There now, that’s a good little dear. Give me a kiss. 
Now just lie still and sleep.” 

‘^The poor dear is out of her head,” said Mrs. 
Miller that evening to her husband. 'Those cruel 
people don’t deserve to have children. What a 
shame to let the dear little one come away such a 
tramp ! She’s caught a fever, and she’s raving. She 
says that they haven’t seen Chubb for a long time, 
and that his ma blames it to the teacher. Then 
Chubb’s pa is going to shoot the teacher. I never 
heard the teacher say anything about the Mores, did 
you? No quarrel or such-like?” 

"The poor thing must be plumb crazy,” was her 
husband’s emphatic reply. "Take good care of her, 
wife, and bring her round.” 

"But something’s wrong, husband, or she wouldn’t 
have run away or babbled like that.” 

"Well, my dear, we’ll hear soon enough. But the 
teacher ain’t home.” 


Duck Lake 


111 


‘‘No, he said he wouldn't be. He's gone to the 
preacher's to spend the night with him. They're 
very friendly these days." 

“That's so, wife. But you'd better leave a lamp 
in the west window to help him to see the way 
through the bush, supposin’ he took the notion to 
come home.” 


CHAPTER XI 
The Search for Jennie 

‘‘ TENNIE, Jennie !’' called Mrs. More, ''you lit- 

I tie hideaway, where are you ?” 

V But no Jennie appeared, and the baby was 
howling his loudest. 

‘‘Woman, make that child shut up!’^ said the 
gruff-voiced husband. 

“Do it yourself. Can’t you see my hands are full, 
getting your breakfast?” 

The man jumped up in a rage and shook his wife 
by the shoulders until her neck was nearly dislo- 
cated. When the woman ceased her talking and 
screaming the ruffian gave her a shove from him, 
causing her head to hit the side of the house, and 
she fell in a heap. 

“There, now, you’ll do what I say,” said the man, 
as he stalked out of the house. 

Partially recovering, Mrs. More buried her 
bruised head in her lap and wept. 

“O, Jennie, Jennie, dear, where are you?” she 
wailed. “Chubby is gone, killed by a bear. And 
you have run away? O, Jennie, come and help your 
poor mamma, Jennie, Jennie!” 

The mother was on her feet again, and, in spite 
of her suffering body, she ran after her husband. 


Duck Lake 


113 


‘Tom/’ she said, “I can’t find Jennie any place. 
I do believe that that Indian has stole her away.” 

“He only came to buy a cow — that red cow that 
we haven’t seen for weeks,” he added, slyly. 

“O, he had her, eh ? And she was going to calve, 
too.” 

More had forgotten the latter point and had not 
thought of the former, and, as it had occurred often 
before, his wife made him see that he was not nearly 
so smart as he thought he was. 

“O, hush up !” he growled. 

“Has Jonas paid you?” persisted the woman. 
“You’ll make us as poor as a rail fence, giving away 
things to Indians. And now he’s got our Jennie, 
too, I do believe.” 

“Get in to your work, will you?” he demanded, 
and Mrs. More, dodging a billet of wood, went back 
to the kitchen, where little Bobbie was bravely trying 
to quiet his crying brother and a pot of potatoes 
was boiling over on the stove. 

The loss of little Jennie was so keenly felt by her 
mother that she kept at her husband, until, in des- 
peration, he took his gun and went out to search 
for her. He made inquiries of the nearest settlers, 
but found no trace of the little one, nor any of 
Chubb. 

He wandered to the Duck Lake Hotel, and here 
he stayed to drink. He told the proprietor, Dave 
Dodge, that he had a good bearskin in his barn 
and a good crop of potatoes in his field. Dodge sup- 


114 


Duck Lake 


plied him with liquor and kept him overnight. When 
it was dark he sent Lanky, one of his confederates, 
and another man to More’s barn for the bearskin. 
It proved to be such a fine one that Dodge did not 
hesitate to supply More’s demand for more liquor 
on the second day. In this way the search for Jennie 
was not energetically pushed. 


CHAPTER XII 
Jonas Finds the Red Cow 
FTER concluding his purchase of the red 



cow Jonas wandered into the neighborhood 


of the bear trap and Chubb’s old lodge. 
He was not far astray in his calculations, for within 
a quarter of a mile of the scene of the conflict be- 
tween the cow and the bear he found Bossy and her 
lusty calf. 

Out of the bark of some red willows he twisted 
a good long rope. The cow was quiet enough when 
Jonas went to put the rope around her neck, but it 
was a different thing when he attempted to lead her. 
She jerked Jonas back so quickly that he was thrown 
to the ground. Jonas jumped up and looked at the 
cow in the greatest of surprise. Bossy looked very 
meekly at him. When Jonas tried again to lead her 
she resisted as before, though with no such success 
in upsetting Jonas. 

Taking another method, Jonas tried to drive her. 
He succeeded for a while beyond his most sanguine 
expectations, for Bossy led him at a lively pace over 
rocks, roots, and fallen logs, dashing through creeks 
and splashing through muddy marshes. Jonas en- 
deavored many a time to ease the pace, but with no 
success until the cow stopped stock-still to take a 


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Duck Lake 


breath. And she took a good many ere she moved 
again ! For a little while she looked wildly around, 
but when she saw her calf coming down the hill 
behind her she lowered her head and assumed an air 
of general meditation. 

Wet to his thighs and bespattered with mud, 
Jonas was also glad to rest. But as night was com- 
ing on he wished to be at the parsonage ere dark. 
So he intimated to Bossy his desire. The cow, how- 
ever, did not deign to notice his request. Jonas took 
up a stick and beat her. Bossy flipped her tail in 
disapproval, but moved not. Jonas then carried his 
rope ahead, put it round a tree, and attempted to 
pull her as he had helped voyageurs pull a boat up 
a stiff rapid. But he only pulled the cow to her 
knees ; her toes did not come an inch ahead. When 
Jonas relaxed his hold Bossy dropped on her side, 
brought up a cud, and began calmly to chew it. 

Jonas coaxed her, pulled her, and, in his despera- 
tion, clubbed her ; but all to no purpose. The red cow 
would not move. 

The calf was not far away, and a new idea struck 
Jonas. Untying the rope from the cow’s neck, he 
caught the calf. Twisting a noose, he put it over 
the calf’s head and placed a rope on each side to use 
as a pair of lines. He had no sooner completed his 
work than he saw the cow spring to her feet, mak- 
ing for him with dangerous intent. He found it 
advantageous to keep the calf between him and the 
cow. Still, the cow’s action seemed to give the nec- 


Duck Lake 


117 


essary incentive to the calf, for between the man and 
its mother it started off in the right direction and 
kept up its pace grandly. But Jonas had to keep his 
lines well in hand, for he had many a tussle with 
the frisky calf to keep it going in the right direction. 
Several times it was questionable whether he would 
win or not, but the arrival of the cow settled it, for 
the calf was as anxious to keep away from its moth- 
er’s horns as it was from Jonas. So in the end Jonas 
triumphed, and he came into the parsonage lot on 
the run, his calf the full length of the lines ahead of 
him and the red cow not far behind. 

The teacher, who was in charge of Chubb when 
Jonas arrived, came out on the run to ascertain the 
cause of the racket. When he saw Jonas covered 
from head to heels with mud, hanging on to a lively 
calf, he laughed and then shouted : 

^What have you been confiscating now, Jonas?” 

“No confiscat. Jonas buy red cow. Tell you 
soon. Get breath now,” stammered Jonas, as he 
brought the calf to a standstill. 

The teacher came to the rescue, as well as his 
laughter would allow him. The red cow was caught 
and tied. Then the two men went into the house. 
A change of clothes was found for Jonas, while he 
put his own to dry. 

When Jonas explained his transaction the teacher 
exclaimed : 

“Splendid, Jonas, splendid ! The milk will be just 
the thing for Chubb, and for the preacher, too. But, 


118 


Duck Lake 


Jonas, we had better fix up a place for either cow or 
calf in the stable.’^ 

‘TV’aps, for sure, for both,’’ replied Jonas. 

After they had had an early tea the men set to 
work, and soon a corner was boxed off for the calf 
and an extra stall made for the cow. 

The teacher had some difficulty in explaining 
Jonas’s deal to Hewitt, but he eventually overcame 
the scruples of that conscientious man by declaring 
emphatically that the cow had been properly bought 
and paid for. Thus the red cow and her calf be- 
came part of the parsonage property. 

Chubb was greatly delighted at the acquisition, 
and was restless to get that calf and his cub together. 
If their mothers had no desire to fulfill prophecy, 
perhaps he could at least induce the young ones to 
lie down in peace together. 


CHAPTER XIII 
Jennie and Chubb 

J ENNIE, for once in her life, was in the midst 
of quietness, plenty, and kindness ; but her little 
heart beat for her brother and for fear lest 
her father should carry out his threat to shoot the 
teacher. She quickly saw that her good friend, Mrs. 
Miller, refused to believe her, and so she determined 
to leave their home as she had left her own. But 
Jennie, however, did not reckon with her hostess. 
A dog and Mrs. Miller were too many for her, and 
she was caught in the act of running away. 

Mrs. Miller quickly put Jennie back into her bed, 
and warned her not to leave it until she gave her 
permission. As a precaution the good woman car- 
ried most of Jennie’s garments away with her. 

The next day the teacher came home, and was 
soon told of the little one’s presence. He hastened 
to Jennie’s side. The little girl greeted him with 
delight. She soon found him quite sympathetic 
with her view of things, and she eagerly poured 
out her little heart to him. 

The following morning Mr. Green asked Mrs. 
Miller for Jennie’s clothes and for things to com- 
plete an outfit. 

You’re not going to take her back to those cruel 


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Duck Lake 


people, Mr. Green? Just think, the dearie’s back is 
full of black welts. They’re brutes over there to 
beat a child so.” 

‘Tt is not my intention,” said the teacher, quietly, 
thoroughly sympathizing with the good woman’s 
indignation, “to take her home just yet.” 

“Then I’ll get her clothes, and — and” — a choke 
came into the good woman’s voice — “yes. I’ll get her 
my little Mary’s shoes and stockings. You don’t 
remember the precious dear I lost nigh on ten year 
ago. She was just like this dearie in size. The 
boots and stockings will do no good in my box — 
’cept to take out and think about and cry on. They’d 
better be a-warming poor Jennie’s feet, and they 
will, too.” 

With this determination Mrs. Miller went to her 
room and got out the little things that once belonged 
to her baby girl. She had a good cry over them, 
and then, bravely brushing away her tears, she 
brought them along with Jennie’s clothes. Soon 
Jennie was clothed and her little feet made comfort- 
able in Mary’s shoes and long warm stockings. 

When Jennie was brought down Mr. Green asked 
Mrs. Miller for a lunch, and then with the little girl 
the teacher set out into the woods. Mrs. Miller 
watched them keenly. Jennie knew not where she 
was going, and Mr. Green would not tell. But Mrs. 
Miller was satisfied when she saw them take the path 
that led in the opposite direction to the one that led 
to the More’s clearing. 


Duck Lake 


121 


Mr. Green hastened with his charge over the bush 
road. When Jennie was tired he carried her so 
that they might reach their destination as soon as 
possible. 

After an hour’s tramp they sat down by a brook 
and ate their lunch. Mr. Green was merry and soon 
had Jennie laughing, but he evaded all her inquiries 
about Chubb. Then, after they had had a good 
drink out of the brook, they hurried on. 

“Wait here, Jennie,” said the teacher, when they 
had reached the barn that belonged to the parsonage. 

So behind the barn Jennie hid while the teacher 
made his presence known to the inmates of the 
parsonage. 

When he entered he found no one there but 
Chubb. 

“Where’s Mr. Hewitt?” asked the teacher. 

“Gone to the lake for a pail of water,” replied 
Chubb. 

“All right. I’ll go and see him.” 

The teacher was delighted with this, for he 
wanted Jennie to see Chubb alone first. So he 
slipped out to the barn and told her to go quickly 
and quietly into the house and she would find some 
one she would like to see. 

Shortly after there was a little scream in the 
parsonage, and Mr. Hewitt came hurrying back 
from the lake. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked, as he met the 
teacher in the path. “Was that Chubb calling? 


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Duck Lake 


‘^No, I think not,’’ replied the teacher, coolly. 

‘Well, that was strange. I thought I heard a 
scream, and it sounded like a human cry and as if it 
came from the parsonage.” 

“So did I, and we shall investigate presently. 
But, Hewitt,” he added, abruptly turning the sub- 
ject, “I fear that we shall have some trouble over 
Chubb.” 

“Why so?” 

“His father is on the warpath with his gun.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes, and some one is going to get hurt.” 

“I’ve no fear of More.” 

“Neither have I when he’s sober, but he’s being 
filled with Dodge’s bad whisky. I accidentally heard 
of him last night on my way to Miller’s. So we had 
better be on the lookout.” 

After some more conversation the two men re- 
turned to the parsonage. 

“Somebody is in there, for I hear talking,” said 
Mr.' Hewitt, again getting anxious about Chubb. 

“Hush,” said the teacher, with a deprecating ac- 
tion to the preacher. Then on tiptoe he went up and 
shoved the door in a little. “Just look here,” he 
whispered. 

Curled up on the bed was little Jennie. Chubb’s 
head was in her lap, and while she was petting him 
he was telling her about his many adventures. It 
was a sweet picture of purest love and simplicity. 

“Why, it’s Jennie,” exclaimed the preacher. On 


Duck Lake 


123 


hearing him Jennie quickly placed Chubb’s head on 
the pillow and slipped down to the floor. 

‘‘Good-bye,” said the teacher, “I must be off to 
school, ril call for you to-night, Jennie. Mrs. 
Miller wouldn’t welcome me without you.” 

Followed by a chorus of “good-byes,” the teacher 
hurried away to his duties at the school. 


CHAPTER XIV 
The Coming of the Father 

‘‘ T" TELLO, More, you here?’^ exclaimed Silas 

I I Woods on seeing Tom More in the bar- 
room of the Duck Lake Hotel. “Given 
up housekeeping, eh?’' 

“What’s that ?” asked More, assuming a bellicose 
attitude. 

“Have you given up housekeeping? I asked.” 

“See here, if you fellows want to fight just go 
outside,” roared Dodge, the proprietor. 

“I only asked More a civil question. Dodge,” re- 
marked Woods. 

“You insulatered me,” said the drunken man, with 
menacing manner and thickened speech, “and I’ll 
have shatishfashion.” 

“What’s the row, anyway?” demanded Dodge, 
laying his hand forcibly upon More’s shoulder and 
pulling him back. 

“I only asked him if he had given up housekeep- 
ing.” 

“Why did you say that ?” asked Dodge. 

“Why, well — because I saw his Chubb in the 
preacher’s place some time ago, sittin’ in a chair, 
quite at home like, and now as I passed I seed both 
him out again and his sister Jennie. ‘So,’ thinks I, 


Duck Lake 125 

^More must have given them up to the preacher.’ 
Don’t you think so, too ?” 

‘What was you a-doin’ at the preacher’s ?” 

“Just a-tellin’ him about our wee Maggie. She’s 
sink in’ fast. Give me a drink of whisky, Dodge. 
I’ve been up with her for two nights.” 

Jennie’s father waited to hear no more. When 
Dodge went to serve the liquor to Woods, he stag- 
gered out. He found his way to the room that he 
had occupied, and after securing his gun he started 
off through the woods, taking the road which led 
to the parsonage. 

In his call upon the parsonage that morning 
Woods had left startling news about the condition 
of his little Maggie, and Mr. Hewitt was filled with 
deepest anxiety about his little parishioner. Chubb 
was much better, and was able to be up and show 
Jennie his little bear and other things around the 
place. So, with Jennie to play with him and keep 
him company, the young preacher saw no reason 
why he should not ride up to the Woods home and 
see what he could do to minister to the little sufferer. 

Dinner was therefore quickly prepared, and after 
a few words of caution to Jennie and Chubb to stay 
by the house until he returned Mr. Hewitt sprang 
into his saddle and rode away. 

In the middle of the afternoon Chubb and Jennie 
heard some one or something in the bush near the 
house. Running out, they saw a man stumbling 
along the path, and ere he came out of the bush 


126 


Duck Lake 


something, a stone or a root, caught his foot, and 
he fell full length on the ground. Jennie wanted to 
run to assist him, but Chubb restrained her. The 
man rose slowly to his feet and came staggering 
along. 

“O, it’s father,” said Jennie, and in terror she 
seized Chubb’s arm, his sore arm, and though it hurt 
him he only straightened himself up like a man and 
bore the pain. 

‘T know it,” he replied to his sister’s exclamation, 
‘‘and he’s drunk. Run into the house, Jennie, and 
hide.” 

“What will you do?” 

“Never mind me. Run into the house and shut 
the door, quick!” commanded Chubb, and Jennie 
obeyed, though she took her position at the window. 

Bruised from his fall, surly in temper, and crazed 
with liquor. More came unsteadily along. 

“Come here,” he shouted, as he noticed Chubb 
standing near the house, “come here, you young ras- 
cal, and I’ll teach you to run away from your home 
again.” 

Chubb did not move, but calmly watched his 
father. More straightened himself up a moment, 
as if in surprise. He looked around him at the 
strange surroundings and realized that he was on 
new ground. So he thought to adopt a new tack. 

“Chubb, my son,” he said, with a cunning leer, 
“come to your father. Come and see what he has 
for you.” 


Duck Lake 


127 


Chubb did not move. 

More took several very unsteady steps nearer the 
boy. 

“Chubb, my dear boy,” he almost whined, “come 
to your pa.” 

Father and son were now nearly in touch with 
each other. 

“Well, if you won’t come to me I’ll make you,” 
said the man, as he sprang forward with a shout. 

But Chubb was not there to be crushed by the 
weight of the man. Quickly taking several steps 
at right angles to the charge, he again turned and 
faced his father. Barely recovering himself from a 
fall, the father turned, and with an oath ran after 
his son. The little fellow ran down the path to the 
lake and sprang into the canoe, intending to paddle 
out of his father’s reach. But ere he got away his 
father grabbed the end of the canoe. Chubb put 
his paddle against a stone and shoved with all his 
might. This caused his father to lose his balance 
and fall splashing into the water. The shock greatly 
sobered him, but it only gave his mean spirit better 
control of a shaky body. The father hung on to 
the canoe, and Chubb thought that he was caught. 
Dropping his paddle, he ran and jumped out of the 
canoe on the opposite side from that in which his 
father was struggling in the water, trying to regain 
his feet. Pouring out terrible threats of vengeance, 
the father came up from the water. In reaching for 
the canoe he had dropped his gun, and now as he 


128 


Duck Lake 


came up, dripping and angry that Chubb had eluded 
him, he picked it up again and swinging it as a club 
he followed after his boy. 

The excitement and exercise had been too much 
for the poor little fellow, and he fell exhausted and 
fainted. Jennie had been watching the whole of the 
proceedings from a corner of the window. When 
she saw her brother fall she forgot his words to 
remain in and ran to his assistance. She reached 
him only a moment before her father. 

‘‘You young rascal, are you here also?” he said, 
and gave his little girl such a blow with his hand 
that it sent poor Jennie staggering back in pain. 

“O, pa,” she said, partially recovering from the 
blow and trying to keep back her tears, “O, don’t 
kill Chubb; he’s been awful hurt with a bear.” 

“Get away home with you !” shouted the father. 

Then seizing his boy he shook him. But Chubb 
showed no signs of consciousness. 

“I’ll bring you around,” said he, “see if I don’t. 
You never fooled long with me.” 

Then, to Jennie’s horror, she saw her father pick 
Chubb up, carry him to the lake, and souse his head 
in the water. 

“There,” shouted the father, as he splashed the 
boy’s head up and down, “I’ll learn you to trip your 
father in the water!” 

Jennie, unable to stand this any longer, picked up 
a stick and, running to the bank, beat her father as 
hard as she could on his back. 


Duck Lake 


129 


‘^Let him alone ! Let him alone !” shouted Jennie, 
as she beat her father. 

Lifting Chubb up, More threw him on the bank 
and then seized Jennie. He cruelly pinned her arms 
behind her back, and then, seizing her stick, he beat 
her furiously over the head and shoulders. 

‘‘Now you cut for home !’' shouted the father, and 
he gave Jennie a shove into the path that led toward 
their distant log cabin. 

Turning his attention again to Chubb, he stood 
him on his feet and shook him. The boy opened 
his eyes and instantly closed them again from sheer 
exhaustion. 

“Here, none of your monkeying. Get to your 
feet and walk!” commanded the father, enforcing 
his words with a cuff on the side of the head. 

Chubb opened his eyes again and looked wildly 
around to see where Jennie was. Seeing her up the 
path, he thought that she was safe enough, and then 
he fainted away again. 

“You won't do as I say, eh?” declared the father. 
Then, with a stick as thick as his arm, he beat the 
boy as he lay on the ground. 


CHAPTER XV 
The Young Preacher Shot 

‘‘'^'^THAT are you men doing here?’’ de- 

\/\/ manded Mr. Green of two men in the 
^ ^ bush, whom he saw peering around the 
trees toward the parsonage. They were Dodge and 
his inseparable, Lanky. Scenting trouble from what 
they had heard in the barroom, when they found 
that More had left they followed him. 

“Just seein’ More trim his children,” said Lanky, 
in a smarty sort of way. 

“Seeing what ?” 

“Tom More is over there after his children that 
the preacher’s got. He has laid out the boy and 
started the girl home.” 

“And did you not interfere with the brute?” 

“Naw,” said Lanky, with a shrug of the shoul- 
ders; “they are his own children, but we weren’t 
going to let him shoot ’em.” 

With a look of contempt the teacher left them 
and hastened to the rescue. When Jennie saw Mr. 
Green she ran to him as hard as her legs could carry 
her. 

“O, come quick, and save Chubb,” she shouted. 

Green hurried down the path with Jennie after 
him. They were just in time to see the young 


Duck Lake 


131 


preacher come out of the other side of the bush. 
He was off his horse in an instant and onto More 
like a whirlwind. Catching him by the arms, Hewitt 
swung him around so quickly that he caused More 
to stagger back and sit plumply down on the ground, 
several yards away. 

“You poor boy,” said the preacher, turning his 
attention to Chubb and dropping on his knees beside 
him, “what did he do to you?” 

Springing to his feet. More seized a club and 
rushed at the preacher, saying : 

“I’ll learn you to steal my children !” 

Ere he could strike Green sprang upon his back 
and bore him to the ground. 

“I’ll have you men arrested for kidnapping my 
children,” declared More. 

“And I’ll have you arrested for cruelty to your 
children,” retorted the teacher. 

With an oath More shook himself free of the 
teacher and struggled again to his feet. 

“I’ll get even with you fellers yet,” he growled, 
and turned away. 

The teacher thought he was going away, and 
turned to see how Chubb was. More hastily found 
his gun and without a moment’s warning raised it 
and fired. The ball grazed the teacher, cutting a 
hole through his clothing, and crashed into Mr. 
Hewitt’s shoulder, causing him to fall over Chubb. 

“There,” yelled More, “that’ll learn ye!” 

The teacher sprang to Hewitt’s side. More, see- 


132 


Duck Lake 


ing Jennie standing alone, seized her and ran for the 
woods. 

‘‘What was that shooting we heard?” demanded 
the game warden, Mr. Fitzgerald, of More. He and 
Jonas were coming to pay a visit to the preacher 
and had just reached the edge of the woods when 
they heard the shot and soon afterward met More 
hurrying away with a smoking gun under one arm 
and carrying little Jennie in the other. More tried 
to pass on. 

“Stop that man, Jonas, in the name of the king; 
and hold him until we investigate.” 

“Hands off!” said More. 

“Then you go back. You tell the warden what he 
ask,” said Jonas, with eyes gleaming, while he flour- 
ished a silver-mounted pistol before More. 

Muttering a curse. More put Jennie down and 
went back as Jonas ordered. As soon as she was 
freed by her father Jennie ran back to Chubb. Mr. 
Fitzgerald had hastened to the scene of the shooting 
and was exceedingly pained to learn that Mr. Hewitt 
was the victim. He, however, proved a timely ar- 
rival, for he had some skill in surgery and was now 
delighted to bring it into service. 

“Many thanks, Mr. Fitzgerald,” said the preacher, 
“but please attend to Chubb first.” 

“Jennie and I will look after him,” said the 
teacher, and Mr. Hewitt submitted calmly to the 
treatment of the warden. 

Picking Chubb up in his arms, the teacher carried 


Duck Lake 


133 


him into the house. He soon stripped him of his 
wet clothes and put him to bed. Consciousness hav- 
ing returned, he left him in Jennie’s care while he 
hastened to assist the warden. 

After stanching the flow of blood and roughly 
binding up the wound the warden and the teacher 
helped Mr. Hewitt into the house. They fixed him 
up on the couch, where the warden reexamined the 
wound, cleansed, and dressed it. 

During his work the warden learned from his pa- 
tient the history of events, Jennie supplementing 
Mr. Hewitt’s account by the story of her father’s 
arrival and his actions since. 

‘The brute!” exclaimed Mr. Fitzgerald. “He 
ought to be made to swing for it.” 

“Still, he is their father, and I suppose we did 
not have any right to keep Chubb away from him,” 
said the preacher. 

“He would have been dead long ere this if he had 
been taken to that hovel,” put in the teacher. 

“Where is Mr. More now?” asked the preacher. 

“I left him with Jonas,” said the warden. On 
hearing this the teacher stepped outside and almost 
as quickly came in again. 

“You are wanted out here, I think,” he said, 
quietly, to the warden. 

Going out, the warden found that Dodge and 
Lanky had tried to rescue More from Jonas, but had 
found the Indian too many for them. With drawn 
revolver he had rounded up the whole three and had 


134 


Duck Lake 


them sitting peacefully on the ground. The men 
looked baffled and so angry while Jonas was appar- 
ently indifferent and so cool that the teacher laughed. 
The warden took in the situation at a glance, but 
was too dignified to smile. 

‘‘More,'' said he, addressing the father of the 
children, “you had better go into the house and see 
what amends you can make for your evil deeds. 
You had better be pretty penitent unless you want 
to spend the rest of your life in jail. Go in with 
him. Green." 

“And what brings you men here?" demanded the 
warden, as More and the teacher left. 

The men were silent. 

“Did they try to interfere with you, Jonas?" 

“Some," was the laconic reply, and Jonas's face 
lit up as he saw the baffled rage of his captives. 

“I thought so," said the warden. “Now, Dodge, 
I have had enough of you. You and your like are 
a curse to any community. I'll give you just one 
week to get out of this country, and if you don't go 
I know a way in which to make you. 

“And you," continued the warden to the other 
man, “had better settle down to your farm and leave 
poaching and whisky alone. Do you both under- 
stand me? Well, then, go." 

Dodge and his companion arose, and without a 
word they slunk away into the bush. 


CHAPTER XVI 

The Preacher and the Father 

W ITH his face hard and set, and revolving 
thoughts of vengeance, even of murder. 
More followed the teacher into the house. 
“And this is your father, Jennie?” said Mr. 
Hewitt, cheerily, from his couch. His shoulder was 
bound up with many cloths and smarting painfully, 
but none of his pain was seen in his face or heard in 
his voice. “I am sorry that I have not called upon 
you, Mr. More. I have not been able to overtake 
all my work. I hope that you will pardon me.” 

The hard-faced man looked at the preacher with 
a scowl. 

“Then when Chubb was hurt,” continued Mr. 
Hewitt, “I should have let you know about it, but 
Chubb did not want you to know that he had been 
beaten by a bear; while we had hoped to have sent 
him home to you well. Poor boy, he is having a 
harder pull back to health than we thought.” 

More looked over at Chubb, who was lying on 
the bed, his little face as white as a moonbeam. 

“Then there’s dear little Jennie,” rambled on the 
preacher. “She only came to see us this morning. 
You should have seen her up on the bed nursing 
Chubb. It was one of the sweetest pictures I ever 


136 


Duck Lake 


saw in my life. But, Mr. More, she says that you 
have not kissed her yet. You are a father, and no 
doubt you are glad to see your children again. 
Look, Jennie is just hungering for a kiss from you 
now !” 

“I never kiss my children,’' growled More, shift- 
ing his feet uneasily. 

“Then you had better begin now. You are their 
father, aren’t you? Look, how can you keep your 
hands off a sweet little lassie like Jennie? If you 
don’t kiss your precious girl I’ll have to do it for 
you.” 

The rough man stooped to his little girl and kissed 
her. Jennie threw her arms around his neck, and 
hugging him tightly she said : 

“O, papa, that’s the first time you ever kissed 
me, and I’ve wanted to kiss you ever so often.” 

The big man staggered back as if hit by a hammer. 
He found a chair and sat down. Jennie climbed up 
into his lap. 

“Papa,” she said, eagerly, “come and kiss Chubb, 
too. He’d like it most as much as me.” 

The father rose unsteadily, and led by his little 
girl he went over to Chubb’s bedside. The boy, in 
spite of his suffering, bravely smiled up to his father. 
The man took the boy’s white face in his two rough 
hands and kissed it. Then, sinking to his knees, he 
cried out : 

“Good God, what have I done ! I’ve nearly killed 
my children and my best friend. God, forgive me !” 


Duck Lake 


137 


‘‘He will,” said the preacher, as tears of thankful- 
ness sprang into his eyes, and the other eyes that 
beheld were by no means dry. “He will forgive, 
bless his holy name.” 

As if suddenly aroused. More struggled to his feet 
and came over to the couch on which the young 
preacher lay. 

“Mr. Hewitt,” he began, and his voice choked, 
“when I entered this house I vowed in my heart to 
kill you, and here you are praying to God to bless 
me.” 

“God is merciful and forgiving. Just try him, 
Mr. More.” 

“Air. Hewitt, you are hard enough to deal with. 
Have mercy on me and say that you’ll send me to jail 
for what I’ve done to you.” 

“Nay, nay, my good friend. I might have sent 
the man who came into this house to jail, but you 
are a new man now in Christ Jesus. God has opened 
your heart. Go and love your children. Let the 
past be buried in oblivion. Let God and your chil- 
dren be your guiding stars in the future.” 

The man stood as if in agony of spirit and seemed 
unable to move. 

“Why, man, your clothes are wet,” said Mr. 
Hewitt. “Green, please see if you cannot get some- 
thing dry out of my trunk for this man. Jonas, 
make up a fire, like a good fellow, and dry Mr. 
More’s clothes. Then after supper he and Jennie 
will go and tell Mrs. More about Chubb’s fight with 


138 Duck Lake 

a bear. She must be very anxious, with nearly all 
her family away.” 

The preacher’s wishes were promptly obeyed. 
Then after Mr. More was in dry clothes Mr. Hewitt 
and Jonas and the teacher, with some comments 
from Chubb, entertained the warden and Mr. More 
with an account of Chubb’s experiences with the 
bear and the red cow. An early tea was served, and 
then Mr. More picked Jennie lovingly up in his arms 
and went away. 


CHAPTER XVII 

“Good-bye, My Boy, I Love You'’ 

A ND you are not going to prosecute that 
man for shooting you!” exclaimed the 
warden to Mr. Hewitt that evening. 

“What's there to prosecute him for ? He couldn't 
be made better by a thousand years in jail.'' 

“Why, man, if all men acted in this way we might 
close up our jails and send our magistrates and con- 
stables on an eternal holiday.'' 

“O, happy day, to be honestly desired, eh, Mr. 
Warden?'' 

“Well, you are merry to-night,'' said Mr. Fitz- 
gerald. “I'll bet your shoulder hurts and burns 
like fire. Are you merriest when your body is most 
twisted with pain?'' 

“Why, my friend, think of the rest that I have 
enjoyed and the number of servants I have had to- 
night to run around and do my work! And then 
God has been so good.'' 

“I am afraid that you are overexcited. Be care- 
ful, my boy.'' 

“Mr. Fitzgerald, please don't.” 

“Don't what?” 

“Don't play the tempter and rob God of his praise. 
We have certainly been shaken up in body, but God 


140 


Duck Lake 


has graciously visited this place to-day, and I hope 
that you will not miss his blessing.” 

^‘Well,” confessed the warden, ‘'this is all new 
to me. IVe attended a few religious services and 
have heard preachers declaim about the promised 
outpouring of the Spirit of God, but I never saw it 
on this wise before.” 

“May you do so again and again!” said the 
preacher. 

“It is certainly touching and hallowing. I wish 
Horace had been here to-night. You have been a 
great blessing to him. You have been to us all, and 
we hope that you will not receive any permanent ill 
from your wound.” 

“You are very kind to say all this, but I shall be 
up to-morrow. Chubb wants me, and my mission 
needs me.” 

“Then I’ll send Horace and his wife over here to 
keep you in bed,” declared the warden, “and I’ll 
leave Jonas here to keep you down until they come. 
Come, Green, you have been as quiet as a lamb to- 
night. You haven’t let a bleat out of you except to 
Chubb. Come and help me put Hewitt to bed.” 

“All right,” responded the teacher, promptly ris- 
ing from his seat beside the bed, “but my thoughts 
have not been idle, Mr. Fitzgerald. I believe Hewitt 
will make new men out of all of us.” 

“Hello, another convert, eh?” said the warden, 
cheerily. “Now, look out, men. Mr. Hewitt’s arm 
is as touchy as quick. Jonas, that’s the man. You 


Duck Lake 


141 


can be as brave as a lion and as delicate as a dove. 
That's right, Green. Now, all together!” 

So Mr. Hewitt was carefully undressed and placed 
beside Chubb in the parsonage bed. The teacher and 
the warden soon afterward took their departure and 
went back to inform Mr. and Mrs. Miller what had 
become of Jennie and warmed their godly souls with 
a tender account of what had taken place. Mr. 
Miller’s prayer that night was full of shouting, and 
his praises also took many practical forms. 

The warden spent the night with his cousin, 
though he could hardly restrain that impetuous in- 
dividual from going over at once to see the preacher. 
It was with difficulty he persuaded him that he had 
left Hewitt all right, with Jonas to wait on him, and 
warned him that his visit would only disturb him. 

So, with Jonas as their nurse, Chubb and Mr. 
Hewitt passed the night. Their sufferings were too 
many and too intense for perfect sleep, but their 
hours of wakefulness were not all unrelieved pain. 

Chubb seemed as happy as the preacher, and as the 
morning light was breaking in the east he confided 
to his bedfellow : 

^'When pa kissed me good-bye, last night, he said, 
'Good-bye, my boy, I love you.’ ” 

"Wasn’t that fine 1” commented the preacher. 

Then there was a long pause in the conversation. 
The light was growing brighter and brighter. 

"And — and I love him, too,” added Chubb, 
bravely. 


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Duck Lake 


‘^God bless you, Chubb, and make your love 
perfect/’ 

Chubb watched the increasing light with interest. 
He seemed to forget all about his pain-racked body. 
Then, as the sun bounded up, in delight he 
exclaimed : 

Mr. Hewitt, was ever the sun so beautiful? 
He seems to shine right into my insides.” 

‘‘Yes, Chubb, forgiving love shines right into the 
heart and leaves no darkness at all. That is the light 
that Jesus gives us, and it is sweet and blessed all 
the time.” 

“Then I want this Jesus light all the time. Just 
listen to the birds singing, and my heart is also 
singing.” 

“Let us have a song, too, Chubb.” 

Softly at first the preacher sang : 

‘“There’s sunshine in my soul to-day, 

More glorious and bright 
Than glows in any earthly sky, 

For Jesus is my light.’ ” 

Then more rapturously he sang the chorus, and 
Chubb joined him : 

‘“O, there’s sunshine, blessed sunshine, 

While the peaceful, happy moments roll; 
When Jesus shows his smiling face. 

There is simshine in my soul.’” 

From his couch Jonas jumped up in a hurry. 
“Beg pardon, Jonas,” said the preacher, “for 


Duck Lake 


143 


arousing you. It was very selfish and thoughtless 
of us, but Chubb and I are so happy that we just 
couldn’t help it.” 

‘‘Some more sing,” said Jonas. 

“And Jonas sing, too,” said Chubb. 

“Jonas try,” said the Indian, as the sun lit up a 
smile upon his swarthy features. 

So the preacher sang on : 

‘“There’s music in my soul to-day, 

A carol to my King; 

And Jesus, listening, can hear 
The songs I cannot sing. 

‘“There’s springtime in my soul to-day. 

For when the Lord is near. 

The dove of peace sings in my heart, 

The flowers of grace appear. 

‘“There’s gladness in my soul to-day, 

And hope, and praise, and love, 

For blessings which he gives me now. 

For joys laid up above.’” 

At the end of each stanza the chorus was repeated. 
Thus Jonas was enabled to pick up the words and 
melody and something more; for the spirit of love 
and happiness in the others was contagious. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

The New Day 


H 


■ GRACE/’ said the warden, ‘‘you go in 
and see if they are ready for us.” 

Mr. Horace Fitzgerald needed no such 
instructions to enter the parsonage, for he was im- 
patiently striding ahead of his wife and cousin, 
eager to see his wounded friend. 

“Whatever have they done to you?” said Horace, 
bursting into the house and hastening to Mr. Hew- 
itt’s bedside. “This is too bad.” 

“It is very good of you to come over and see me 
so soon,” said the young preacher, gratefully. 

“I am an advance guard to see if you are ready 
for visitors,” said Horace. “The warden and my 
wife are here, while I saw Green and old man Miller 
coming through the bush.” 

“It is a very untidy place,” said Hewitt, apolo- 
getically, casting his eyes around the room, filled 
with disorder after the events of the previous even- 
ing, “especially so for your wife, Mr. Fitzgerald. 
Jonas,” he added, addressing his Indian friend, 
“clear away these breakfast things, like a good 
fellow.” 

“Well, they are here now,” said Horace, as the 
warden and Mrs. Horace came in, and just behind 


Duck Lake 


145 


them the school-teacher, accompanied by good old 
John Miller, who had a big basket of good things 
on his arm. 

‘‘Here now, young man,’’ said the warden, sternly 
addressing his cousin, ‘^don’t you excite my patient.” 
Then, taking the wrist of Mr. Hewitt’s well arm in 
his hand, he said: ‘How’s your pulse, eh? Beat- 
ing like a trip hammer. We must attend to this at 
once.” 

With a smile on her face and eyes full of ten- 
derest sympathy, Mrs. Horace came up beside Mr. 
Hewitt : 

“These awful men, Mr. Hewitt, what next will 
they be trying to do to you ?” 

“The missus sent a bit of bread and a chicken over 
to you,” put in John Miller, coming up beside Mrs. 
Fitzgerald. 

The young man’s words of thanks and other con- 
versation with Mrs. Horace and Mr. Miller were 
drowned by the warden’s peremptory orders. 

“Jonas,” he said, “bring some hot water. Mary, 
get out your bandages and medicines. We must 
tend to our patients, Mr. Miller. We cannot talk 
much just now.” 

So the warden ruled, and the others were willing 
to obey. 

Mrs. Horace proved an excellent nurse, and 
“Father” Miller, as the young preacher styled him, 
seconded her efforts bravely. With their assistance 
the warden soon redressed the wounded shoulder. 


146 


Duck Lake 


The teacher took Horace out to the barn and 
showed him the red cow, the valiant conqueror, and 
her calf and the cub; and entertained him with a 
racy account of the exploits of Chubb in school, 
hunt-lodge, and in the woods. Horace commended 
the teacher for the manner in which he played chore- 
boy. Then Jonas relieved him, as he had to hasten 
to school. 

Having finished his work on Mr. Hewitt, the 
warden with his assistants gave Chubb a thorough 
overhauling. The shock from his dousing and 
beating had been severe, and great welts stood 
out where he had been so cruelly struck. These 
called out many expressions of sympathy with the 
boy on the part of Mrs. Fitzgerald and Mr. Miller, 
while the warden denounced the brutality of the 
father. Still, the night’s rest, the breakfast that 
Jonas had given him of fish and broiled partridges, 
with his happy spirits, had helped him wonderfully, 
and he declared that he was ready to get up. This, 
however, the warden strictly forbade. So after a 
warm bath Chubb’s bruises were anointed with lini- 
ment, and he was again stowed away beside Mr. 
Hewitt. 

These duties performed and the blinds drawn, the 
warden and Mr. Miller went outside, while Mrs. 
Horace, whose housewifely heart had been pained 
with the disorder that reigned in the parsonage, 
quietly and bravely attacked the chaos. 

As the warden and Mr. Miller left the house they 


Duck Lake 


147 


met Farley and Woods. These men had heard of 
the shooting of their pastor and had come to see the 
extent of the injury and what could be done for his 
comfort. 

“And you let More go home in peace?” said 
Woods to the warden, after the formal greeting was 
over and inquiries about the health of Mr. Hewitt 
and Chubb were answered. “You should have tied 
him to a tree until we arrived. The brute ought to 
have been lynched.” 

“I wanted to have him arrested, but Hewitt 
wouldn’t hear of it,” replied the warden. 

“There’s another spirit besides whisky. Woods,” 
remarked Mr. Miller, addressing the former speaker; 
but in a very different tone he added, “But tell us 
how’s your Maggie ?” 

“Much better, thank you.” 

“Miller,” said the warden, “you people have no 
respect for the laws of your country.” 

“Aye, aye, we have, as a last resort. We are to 
try the law of God, the law of love. It’s much bet- 
ter. If we Christians had always the spirit of Christ 
there’s none that could withstand us. Trouble is 
whisky and self, pride and hate get in, and the devil 
makes merry over our a-jawin’ and a-jailin’ of each 
other. It does mighty little good, I can tell you. 
There’s Dave Dodge. He’s been to jail a half a 
dozen times, and he comes home madder and worser 
than he ever was before. He is only slyer and slicker 
in his work, and gets it back hard on those that 


148 


Duck Lake 


helped to send him down. That’s the devil’s own 
way. I’m with Mr. Hewitt.” 

‘‘You won’t be troubled with Dodge any more/* 
declared the warden. 

‘‘How’s that?” asked Miller. 

“I’ve ordered him to leave the country.” 

“When?” 

“Within a week.” 

“Poor man, where’ll he go to at his time of life? 
I must see my wife about him. He killed three 
sheep and two cows because I testified against him 
once, and burned my barn because I sent him down 
again. I’ve not properly forgiven him, and I must 
see him again before he leaves. Poor man, where’ll 
he go to, and him an old man now !” 

“The old villain !” said the warden, emphatically. 
“Why, Miller, you ought to send him to jail for life 
for burning your barn. I know enough more to 
send him down, and he knows it. I’ve a good mind 
to send him anyway.” 

“Nay, nay. That’s not the right spirit, Mr. Fitz- 
gerald. I thought that way once ; but I’ve another 
spirit now. It is better to carry, and it keeps one 
sweeter, whatever else it does. You’d better try it, 
my friend,” and the old man looked very kindly into 
the warden’s face. 

“Then I’d have to give up my job,” said the war- 
den, straightening up and trying to smile. 

“And there are better,” was the sententious reply. 

“Well, we’ll see about it later, Miller; though 



I 



“ Look at this, my boy," said he. “ If the old ones won’t be 
good and do right, the young ones will lie down in peace.” 


Duck Lake 


149 


you are the bravest man that I have met. Whatever 
are you men up to?’’ said the warden, turning 
abruptly as he heard a good deal of noise, and 
addressing his cousin and Jonas. 

‘‘Want to see the development of prophecy,” re- 
plied Horace, almost breathless, as he endeavored 
to hold on to a lively young calf. Jonas was leading 
another animal, which was almost as determined 
not to follow as the other was to break away from 
its captor. The men, however, succeeded in bring- 
ing the two animals near each other. The cub, 
which Jonas had brought out, at first curled himself 
up like a ball of fur on the ground. With a rush 
the calf jumped over the cub and nearly jerked the 
rope out of Horace’s hand. Then it came back on 
the lee side of the bear and with a sniff and snort 
gave his bearship a bunt in the ribs. This caused 
Master Bruin to straighten himself out and lose his 
bashfulness. When the calf came up a second time 
he received a cuff on the side of the head that gave 
him ever after a greater respect for the cub. Still 
he bunted and jumped, and the bear boxed and 
danced around until they were both tired and the 
spectators were almost sore from laughing at the 
antics of the pair. Then the calf lay down and the 
cub curled up quietly beside him. 

“Chubb must see this,” said Horace, and he ran 
into the house. Picking Chubb up, he wrapped a 
blanket around him and brought him out. 

“Look at this, my boy,” said he. “If the old ones 


ISO 


Duck Lake 


won’t be good and do right, the young ones will lie 
down in peace.” 

Chubb’s eyes sparkled with delight. 

‘‘Bless the boy !” said John Miller. “He likes to 
see this peaceful scene as much as we enjoyed their 
wrestling. ‘A little child shall lead them.’ ” 


CHAPTER XIX 
The Father Again 

A fter Jonas had served the evening tea 
Mr. Hewitt whispered something into his 
ear. Chubb had asked several times during 
the day about his father and mother and Jennie. 
Mr. Hewitt had also wondered why one of them at 
least had not come to see Chubb, and now he quietly 
sent Jonas to see what was going on. Jonas also 
had a message to carry to the school-teacher. He 
found Mr. Green talking with ‘‘Father” Miller, in 
the latter's barn. 

“He was all alone in the field diggin' potatoes 
when I come up,” he was telling the school-teacher. 
“I never saw a man work so hard in my life. His 
Jennie was playing outside with little Bob and the 
baby, and his missus was scrubbin' the floor. In 
the house I said, ‘Good-day, Mrs. More, your floor 
is as white as a table.' ‘We're gettin' ready for 
Chubb,' says More, cornin' up behind me. ‘That's 
right,' says I. ‘I saw him to-day. He's doin' fine. 
And he was askin' for you all.' Mrs. More just 
scrubbed right on and never says a word, but Jennie, 
she comes beside me and grips my hand tight. 
Pullin' me down, she whispers : ‘It's all right now. 
Pa loves us, and ma, she's 'most washin' the floor 


152 


Duck Lake 


with her tears.’ ‘Bless her soul!’ says I. ‘Mrs. 
More,’ says I, touchin’ her and stoppin’ her scrub- 
bin’. She stops, wipes her face and eyes with her 
apron. ‘My missus says she ought to have remem- 
bered your baby before this, and wants you now to 
accept these little things. She’d ’ave come herself 
but the walkin’s so bad.’ The poor woman began 
cryin’ again. More, he turns to me and said : ‘Mr. 
Miller, you are too kind, you and your wife. You 
took our Jennie in and saved her from catchin’ a 
death of cold. Thank Mrs. Miller for us, and tell 
her that we’ll both be over soon to see her.’ ‘We’ll 
be glad to see you when you come, and be sure you 
bring Jennie and the baby.’ ‘We’ll remember,’ says 
he. Then I kissed Jennie and the wee un and I come 
away. Bless the Lord, for there’s a wonderful 
change there !” 

Jonas stood by respectfully waiting until Mr. 
Miller had finished his account. Then he delivered 
his message and hurried on to the More home. 

The teacher after a hasty supper went over to the 
parsonage. He repeated with some comments of 
his own what Father Miller had told him about his 
visit to the Mores. Tears of thankfulness were in 
the preacher’s eyes long before the story was com- 
pleted ; but he still wanted to hear more and eagerly 
awaited Jonas’s return. 

“What did you see, Jonas?” asked Mr. Hewitt, a 
little impatiently, as Jonas entered. 

“Jonas see much. See a light and look in window. 


Duck Lake 


153 


Glass broken; Jonas see. Jonas hear. More, he 
make a new bed in corner. His missus, she cry and 
sew new blankets. When More he done bed, he get 
a book, the Book, and he sit down on chair by light. 
Jennie, she rock cradle, and boy asleep on floor. The 
missus stop her sew. She hear him read. He find 
that place, Mr. Hewitt, you tell about and Chubb; 
the cow and bear and young ones, and he laugh and 
she laugh and Jennie laugh. Then he cry and they 
all cry. Then he turn back and read about the ox 
knows his owner but people forget their God, and 
God, he say, ‘Come, consider, your sins be red, I’ll 
make white as snow.’ ” 

“That’s right, Jonas. That’s the first chapter of 
Isaiah,” said Mr. Hewitt, in great delight. “What 
did he do next?” 

“He kneel down, missus kneel down, Jennie kneel 
down. Then More, he say, ‘Lord, we was like the 
ox. Forgive and make us good.’ He say lot more. 
Then he say, ‘Make Chubb better, O God, and let 
him come home.’ Then he say more: ‘Bless the 
teacher and bless Mr. Hewitt, and, O my God, 
make him well again.’ ‘That’s right prayer for you, 
More,’ say Jonas.” 

Jonas paused in his report to receive the approval 
of his auditors on his own comment, but there was 
silence. Lumps were in the throats of the preacher 
and the teacher. 

“Well,” said Green, recovering control of his 
voice, “and what did you do then?” 


154 


Duck Lake 


“Jonas leave More’s clothes at the door and come 
away. He no talk to More after he talk to the Great 
Spirit.” 

About the middle of the afternoon of the next day 
Mr. Hewitt was awakened out of a nap by a knock 
on his door. 

“Come in/’ he said, and Mr. More entered. From 
his shoulder he swung a bag of potatoes and a 
smaller one, and then came to the bedside. 

“How are you to-day, Mr. Hewitt?” he asked, 
somewhat bashfully. 

“O, much better, thank you,” said Mr. Hewitt, 
cheerily. 

Mr. More looked timidly around the room. The 
preacher followed the look with interest. 

“Where’s Chubb ?” ventured the father. 

“The day was so beautiful that Jonas took him 
and Mrs. Fitzgerald for a canoe ride on the lake.” 

“Will they be in soon?” 

“May be in any minute.” 

“We can never thank you, Mr. Hewitt.” 

“How’s Jennie?” asked the preacher, cutting Mr. 
More rather short. 

“She is all right, but wants Chubb. And, Mr. 
Hewitt, so do we all. We’ve made a new bed for 
him and got new blankets, and we’ll take good care 
of him. But we can’t thank you.” 

“Give thanks to God.” 

“We’ve done that and will do it, and we’ll do it to 
you, too.” 


Duck Lake 


155 


father/' said Chubb, bursting into the house 
and rushing up to his father. The man sprang to his 
feet and caught his son. Lifting him up in his arms, 
he kissed him, and the little fellow hugged him 
passionately. 

‘‘Your father has come to take you home, Chubb," 
said Mr. Hewitt. 

Chubb shook himself, and his father put him 
down. The boy looked puzzled. He came slowly 
over to the bed and looked inquiringly into Mr. 
Hewitt's eyes. Those eyes filled with tears, and so 
did Chubb's. 

“It is right, Chubb. I'd like to keep you, but it 
is right that you should go to your father and mother 
and Jennie." 

The little fellow slipped his arm around Mr. 
Hewitt's neck, hugged him, and wept. 

“Now, Chubb, my boy, go with your father. 
Jonas will take your things over to-morrow, your 
calf and your cub also. Remember, Chubb, about 
the child who shall lead them. Go, and God bless 
you !" 

He relaxed his hold on the young preacher's 
neck and walked bravely over to his father. Mr. 
More took his son affectionately by the hand, and, 
saying “Good-bye," left for his home. 





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DAVE DODGE 


































Dave Dodge 


CHAPTER I 

The Burning of Duck Lake Hotel 

W HEN Dodge hastened away into the bush, 
with the warden’s threat upon him, he 
ground his teeth in silent rage. Was he 
not one of the first settlers here? Yes, he and old 
John Miller were the first that came into that section 
to take up land. They had wrested it from a wil- 
derness, had built roads through it, and had induced 
others to come in and settle. They had organized 
the district, built the school, and made it what it is 
to-day. 

The truth of the matter was that, while Dave 
Dodge and John Miller were the first settlers. Miller 
was first and plunged into the bush with his ax and 
stout heart. He soon had a clearing and a log cabin, 
to which he brought a bride as capable and stout- 
hearted as himself. Then came in Dodge, a shrewd, 
unscrupulous man, fond of drink, and when drunk 
surly and quarrelsome ; but he was a sociable fellow 
when sober, and had some other good graces. He 
took up land on the lake, a situation that was some- 


160 


Duck Lake 


what superior to Mr. Miller’s, and that in time, 
because of its location on the lake front, proved the 
more valuable possession. He built himself a little 
shanty and spent most of his time hunting and trap- 
ping. When lumbermen came in he shrewdly fore- 
stalled them by cutting all the pine himself and 
selling it on the plea of clearing his land for farming. 
He thus netted himself some good hard cash, en- 
larged his house, and went to a neighboring village, 
where he secured a wife. 

Several other men came in and took up land, and 
Miller petitioned the government for a grant to build 
a road through their district. This was readily 
given, for the government was ready to encourage 
its settlers, especially in new districts. Miller was 
given the contract for a portion of the road, and 
Dodge secured it for another section. Miller sought 
a road expert, and, though the condition of his sec- 
tion was the worst imaginable from rocks, ledges, 
ravines, still his road is creditable to this day, and 
the bridges were well made. Dodge had a much 
leveler piece of ground and only a couple of narrow 
streams to bridge; but from the first his road was 
dangerous and was a nightmare to all travelers 
after dark. Within three months Miller with the 
other settlers had to turn out and rebuild the bridges 
and relay most of Dodge’s corduroy road. The most 
important part of the business to Dodge seemed to 
be to draw the money from the government. With 
that money he secured permission to turn his house 


Duck Lake 


161 


into a backwoods saloon and lay in his first supply 
of liquor. When the lumbermen had camps near by 
he held high carnival every night, and began to think 
himself the most important man in the whole district. 

Instead of helping to secure the school, he threw 
every obstacle possible in its way. He bullied the 
settlers and tried to drive Miller from his purpose. 
But he fought in vain. The government’s induce- 
ments to the settlers were tempting, and the needs of 
their children were too pressing, and so John Miller 
had the honor of leading his fellow settlers in a bee 
to build their log schoolhouse, which he saw was the 
very best that could, under the circumstances, be 
built. From that time the contest for improvement 
was fought by John Miller, and his determined 
enemy was always the saloon keeper, Dave Dodge. 
And this was but a small portion of the inimical 
work of Dodge. His saloon became the center of 
backwoods brawls and evils that wrecked many lives 
and even some of the homes of the settlers. The 
place became so lawless that the government had to 
take special measures to maintain order. 

But as Dodge went home from the little parsonage 
he was full of self-righteousness and self-justifica- 
tion. All that was good and beneficent in the neigh- 
borhood he and Miller had done, and, in his estima- 
tion, Miller’s honor by no means outshone his. And 
now, after all this service to his district, with the 
tourists beginning to find out the beauties of the 
country and to flock to it in scores and hundreds in 


162 


Duck Lake 


the summer time, thus making the hotel business 
very profitable, to have this upstart of a warden 
threaten lifelong imprisonment over his head be- 
cause of his mistakes — not to say diabolical sins — 
against his fellows, if he did not leave the country 
within a week! 

Lanky was awed by Dodge’s manner, and had not 
been with him for years without knowing when 
silence was the better part of discretion. When 
Dodge reached his home a very little provocation 
was needed to bring heavy penalty upon the first 
culprit. This one, unfortunately, happened to be 
his wife. The poor, overworked creature had lain 
down on her hard couch in the kitchen and had gone 
to sleep. Two passing shantymen had called for a 
drink, and, finding the barroom unoccupied and no 
one in the house but a sleeping woman, they had 
helped themselves. Then, with a liberal supply of 
bottles of whisky and other liquors, they hastened 
away. 

Raging as he was when he entered his barroom. 
Dodge saw that nearly every bottle of liquor in 
sight was gone. He hurried into the kitchen, only 
to find his wife asleep. 

‘‘Who’s been here to buy whisky ?” he demanded 
of his wife. 

The wife sprang to her feet, rubbing her eyes. 

“Eh?” she asked. 

“Who’s been here for liquor?” he thundered 
again. 


Duck Lake 


163 


one that I know/’ she replied. 

Then, with an oath, he said: 

“You’ve allowed some rascals to rob me, you 
sleeping idiot,” and with another oath of rage he 
struck her full in the face. With a screech the poor 
woman fell back on the couch with a broken nose. 

Dodge hastened back into the barroom, and, after 
consoling himself that his till was not touched — 
whisky provoking the thieves sooner than gold — 
he pulled out another case of liquor, uncorked a 
bottle of whisky, and, without the assistance of a 
glass, poured it down his throat. When Dodge fin- 
ished his drink it was only to fall into a profound 
stupor. The demon of thirst was aroused, and when 
he awakened it was only to demand more whisky. 

When John Miller came home from his visit to 
the parsonage he told his wife many things, but he 
did not mention the sentence that hung over Dave 
Dodge. He pondered over it and became more quiet 
than ever. His prayers at the family altar, night 
and morning, took on a greater intensity. He did 
not forget to pray for his pastor’s recovery, for 
God’s blessed Spirit and sustaining power to dwell 
with More in beginning the new life, and for grace 
to increase in the hearts of all the neighbors; he 
earnestly besought God to purify their hearts of all 
manner of evil thoughts, prejudice, and unforgive- 
ness, and also that God would gird his saints with 
power to lay down their lives if need be for their 
fellows. He chose his passages of Scripture care- 


164 


Duck Lake 


fully, reading the sixth chapter of Matthew, Ro- 
mans the twelfth, and Ephesians the fourth. 

Mrs. Miller noted these things and tried to fathom 
their meaning, but, though she was usually very 
shrewd, she did not succeed. 

‘7ohn,” she said one day, ‘^do you despair of our 
preacher’s life?” 

‘‘O, no, Mary. Thanks to God and kind friends, 
he is coming around all right.” 

‘Ts More holding true ?” she ventured again. 

“As true as steel, praise His name !” 

“Then, John, why are you growing so white and 
quiet like ? I do not understand you. I never heard 
you pray so in my life.” 

“Mary, my good wife, I never needed God’s light 
and grace so much. The warden has ordered Dave 
Dodge to leave the country within a week — dear me, 
and this is — this is the morning of the fourth day 
now. And you know and God knows that I haven’t 
fully forgiven him for burning our barn.” 

“No, I don’t know that,” replied Mrs. Miller, 
stoutly. “You didn’t send him to jail, as he ought 
to have gone. You have pardoned him time and 
again for killing sheep and hogs. He stole a calf. 
You merely told him that he did it and you could 
prove it. He drove you off with curses. You have 
prayed for him, night and morning, and never 
allowed an unkind word said about him.” 

“And would you speak one now? Why, where 
will he go to ? He is ’most as old as me, and we have 


Duck Lake 165 

always lived here together. What would I do with- 
out him?’' 

‘Why, you’d have a chance to live in peace, and 
his dirty little hell-hole would be shut up.” 

Mrs. Miller seldom spoke as warmly. She had a 
large heart and forgave many things, but her faith 
and love were limited. Dave Dodge was beyond 
the pale, and she could not understand why her 
husband clung so tenaciously to the old rascal. 

“Mary,” said Miller, quietly, “I want you to pray 
earnestly for me, for I am going to see Dave to-day 
and see what I can do for him.” 

“I’ll pray that God will send you back to me 
alive,” said Mrs. Miller; and added quickly, when 
she saw the look that came upon her husband’s 
kindly face : “Yes, John, I believe that you are right. 
May God bless you, whatever happens.” 

“And God bless you, my dear, and fill you with 
the sweet love of Jesus.” 

Then John Miller turned his attention to his 
chores. After they were all completed he dressed 
himself with much care and, bidding his wife good- 
bye, he went down the road to the Duck Lake 
Hotel. 

On the same morning, the fourth day of Dodge’s 
debauch, his wife, poor creature, with her bandaged 
face, became alarmed at his terrible condition and 
begged of Lanky and Huddy not to supply him with 
any more liquor. So the men desisted. 

Dodge was in his bedroom over the kitchen and 


166 


Duck Lake 


helplessly stupid. He begged, pleaded, and coaxed, 
but all in vain. Then he stormed and threatened. 
His strength came to him suddenly, as that of ten 
men, and he sprang up in a fury. The men ran for 
their lives down to the kitchen. They locked the 
door going into the barroom, and then fastened the 
kitchen door on the outside. Dodge came down, 
breathing curses and threatenings. When he found 
the door to the barroom locked his fury knew no 
bounds. He sought a billet of wood, but found 
none; then, to the horror of the people watching 
through the windows, he opened the stove door, took 
out a stick of wood that was burning a little at the 
end, and, with that, pounded open the barroom door. 
Then, throwing down the wood, he made a rush 
for a bottle of liquor ; but in doing so he fell, threw 
out his arms to save himself, and brought down a 
shelf of bottles. Some of these broke. The liquor 
ran out, took fire when it touched the stick of wood, 
and spread with astonishing rapidity. Dodge jumped 
back, seized a bottle of whisky, and hurried back to 
the kitchen, unmindful of the flames. Then he has- 
tened upstairs and, getting into his bed, broke the 
top off the bottle on the side of the bed, drank 
deeply, and fell into a stupor. 

The flames made terrific headway in the dry old 
house, and as the smoke began to pour out of the 
barroom door Mrs. Dodge exclaimed: 

‘‘O, my Dave will be burned! my Dave will be 
burned and before the men could stop her she had 


Duck Lake 


167 


pulled away the barricade at the kitchen door and 
ran in and up the stairs. 

The men secured some pails and, bringing water 
from the lake, dashed it ineffectually upon the burn- 
ing building. The fire raged with most fury in the 
barroom up to the roof and then back to the kitchen. 
So the stairs had not caught fire. 


CHAPTER II 
To THE Rescue 

W HILE the men were engaged in throwing 
water on the building Mr. Miller came 
running up, his face full of horror at 
the sight of the fire and almost breathless from 
running. 

‘Where’s Dave Dodge?” he asked of the men. 
“Inside, raving drunk !” replied Lanky. 

“Where’s his missus?” 

“Inside, too. Trying to get old Dave out.” 
“And you here, not trying to help her!” said 
Miller, with a look of contempt and scorn at the 
cowards. 

Then, turning, he whipped off his coat and, hold- 
ing it over his head as a shield, plunged into the 
smoke. He found the stairs, and saw Mrs. Dodge 
shaking her drunken husband and trying to awaken 
him to a sense of his perilous position. 

“O, Mr. Miller, save Dave, won’t you?” she cried, 
and sank to the floor unconscious from the smoke. 

“You first,” said the good old man, as he threw 
a blanket over her head and gathered the woman 
up in his stout arms. 

He carried her downstairs and handed her out to 
the men, and then rushed back for Dave. He seized 


Duck Lake 


169 


him by the head and arms and dragged him down- 
stairs, and had him nearly out of danger outside the 
door when the roof fell. Some of the burning tim- 
bers fell on Mr. Miller and pinned him to the ground, 
burning him severely as they did so. The men, 
roused by the old man’s heroism, rushed to his 
rescue. They got Dodge away with little injury, 
but before Mr. Miller was released he was terribly 
burned. However, he was delighted and full of 
thanksgiving to God that he had rescued the people, 
and though the building might go no lives would be 
lost. 

Mr. Miller told Lanky to go and secure help and 
take them all to his place, and tell Mrs. Miller to get 
an extra bed ready. 

Lanky sped away to secure help, while Huddy 
took charge of the patients. He wanted to help 
Mr. Miller, but though he was suffering intensely 
he said : 

‘‘No, my man, dash some water in the woman’s 
face and bring her to.” 

Huddy obeyed, and was rewarded by the woman 
opening her eyes and looking around in alarm. 

“Where’s Dave?” she asked. 

“Over there beside Mr. Miller,” replied Huddy. 

“O, yes, now I know,” she said. “Mr. Miller 
saved him.” 

“Yes, he did, missus, and you, too.” 

“Then let me up,” she said, but in trying to raise 
herself she fell back in weakness. 


170 


Duck Lake 


Huddy then attempted to see what effect a little 
water would have in Dodge’s face. 

‘‘Where am I ?” he growled, opening his eyes. 

“You were pretty nearly gone,” said Huddy, 
“only John Miller pulled you out.” 

“Where is he?” 

“Right here, nearly killed from trying to rescue 
you.” 

Dodge rose on his elbow. He looked stupidly at 
the burning building and tried to comprehend the 
situation, but his drugged senses were slow and 
halting. 

“Is that my house ?” 

“It is,” replied Huddy, amused at the man’s stu- 
pidity and the distortions of his face as he tried to 
see clearly. 

“Who set it on fire ?” 

“You did when you chased us and went for more 
liquor.” 

“Chased you ?” 

“Yes, you chased Lanky and me, broke open the 
barroom door with a burning stick of wood from the 
kitchen stove. You knocked some liquor down, got 
some more, and ran back to bed. Don’t you remem- 
ber?” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“So help me — there’s your poor, broken-nosed 
missus. Ask her. Do you remember smashing her 
nose?” 

Dodge looked as black as thunder at Huddy. 


Duck Lake 171 

“Then as true as you did that you did the whole 
thing/’ 

‘‘And who brought me here— out of my 
bed?” 

“John Miller, I told you. There he lies behind 
you, nearly smashed and burned to death when the 
roof fell.” 

“John Miller — ^John Miller — when the roof fell,” 
said Dodge, half stupidly to himself. “Why did 
John Miller save me? I never did him a good turn 
in my life.” 

“Better ask him why he saved you?” suggested 
Huddy. 

“Where is he ?” 

“O, Dave, Dave, come here. I am so glad that 
Mr. Miller got you out safely!” said Mrs. Dodge, 
as she looked over at her husband. 

Dodge looked at her for a moment. 

“What’s the matter with you, missus ?” he asked, 
half kindly. 

“Why, man,” said Huddy, “she nearly died trying 
to save you, but she couldn’t, and then Mr. Miller 
had to save you both, see ?” 

Dodge reached over and took his wife’s extended 
hand and pressed it half unconsciously, half affec- 
tionately. The world was whirling around him. 
He remembered distinctly hitting his wife, and now 
she nearly perished trying to rescue him! He re- 
membered a hundred mean, tricky, dishonest things 
he had done to John Miller, but that John Miller 


172 


Duck Lake 


should come and drag him out of his burning house 
he did not comprehend so distinctly. 

“And what was John Miller doing in my house?” 
he asked. 

“Come here, Dave, and Fll tell you,” said Mr. 
Miller, when he heard the question. 

Dodge struggled to his feet with a blanket around 
him, and walked over as a man in a dream. Though 
suffering great pain, and exertion increasing it four- 
fold, Mr. Miller held up his blackened and badly 
burned hand to Dodge. 

“Take that, Dave, like a good man, and say that 
you forgive me.” 

“Forgive you!” stammered Dodge. 

“Yes; God says that we are to forgive one an- 
other as he, for Christ’s sake, has forgiven us. I’ve 
had some hard thoughts about you, Dave; I want 
them forgiven.” 

“I should think you had.” 

“Will you forgive them?” repeated Mr. Miller, 
almost pleadingly. 

“The score’s all on the other side. Miller. Don’t 
say anything more about it,” said Dodge, as he 
dropped Mr. Miller’s hand and sank to the ground 
exhausted. Lanky returned with Woods, Far- 
ley, Mr. Green, the school-teacher, and half a dozen 
boys. 

The teacher took charge of the wounded while 
the other men looked after the burning hotel. The 
sides had now fallen, and all that was left was only 


Duck Lake 


173 


a mass of burning and smoking timbers and debris. 
There was some danger of the fire spreading to the 
stable, in which Dodge had some cows and hogs. 
But the men soon stopped this and made any further 
damage from the fire an impossibility. 

Mr. Green had some stretchers made of blankets 
that had been brought and birch poles cut from the 
forest, and then, on the instruction of Mr. Miller, 
had the three wounded ones carried over to his 
house. 

When Mrs. Miller first heard the news of the fire 
and the accident to her husband she was nearly 
prostrated, but the request for another bed quickly 
aroused her housewifely instincts, while the idea of 
receiving Dodge and his wife brought many mingled 
motives into play. When the men arrived with the 
patients Mrs. Miller busied herself to get them all 
properly attended to. Mr. Miller was taken to his 
own bed. Dodge was put in the spare bedroom, while 
Mrs. Dodge, who had nearly recovered, was per- 
mitted to rest on the parlor lounge. 

Mrs. Miller brought out her ointments and the 
teacher applied them to the wounds, but Mr. Miller 
was so serious that he ordered Huddy to get the 
best horse he could find in the neighborhood and 
hasten away to Sandy Bay for the doctor. Mr. 
Miller was very quiet and patient. 

'‘Thank you, my dear,’’ he said to his wife, "that 
will do now. Let me rest, and you tend to Dave^ 
He got some burns, too.” 


174 


Duck Lake 


And so the good old body drew up the blanket, 
tucked it around her husband, pulled the blind down, 
and left. 

When she came to Dodge she found that the 
teacher had bathed him and anointed his wounds. 
He was sitting up in the bed, robed in one of Mr. 
Miller’s spotless nightgowns. In spite of all the 
care and attention, the cleansing water and soothing 
ointment, he was not sure of himself and was very 
restless. 

^‘Lie down and rest,” said the teacher. 

But Dodge treated him with a far-away look. 
The young man could not understand his thoughts, 
he seemed to say, and so he kept silent. But when 
Mrs. Miller entered his face changed. 

‘T’m ashamed to come under your roof, Mrs. 
Miller,” he said. 

“You well might be, Dave, for you’ve been a bad 
man to us, burning our barn, killing our sheep, and 
stealing our calves. You’ve got a lot to answer for. 
I hope that you’ll repent of your sins ere it is too 
late,” said the good woman, but she busied herself 
to fix the pillows and sheets to make the man more 
comfortable. 

“Perhaps I’d better not bother you any more,” 
said Dodge, “and get the men to take me to some 
other home.” 

“And where will you go to, Dave? John’s the 
best friend you’ve got in the whole place.” 

“I thought he was my worst enemy.” 


Duck Lake 


175 


'That shows what a blind fool you were, Dave. 
John has prayed for you night and morning and he 
wouldn’t hear a word said ag’in’ you, though you did 
him many a mean turn, sure enough. May the good 
Lord forgive you, Dave!” 

Dodge groaned in spirit under the woman’s hon- 
est, straightforward words. The ax was not laid 
at the root of the tree. It was in the hands of a pure, 
stout-hearted woman, and was, in purest honesty 
and unconsciousness, wielded with accuracy against 
a tree of stubborn bitterness. Dodge’s mind was 
very alert. The journey through the woods had 
brought freshest air to his lungs, and the pain of his 
wounds awoke every slumbering faculty. The 
events of the morning were related again and again 
among his carriers until he understood the enormity 
of his own actions and the prompt and heroic work 
of John Miller. The unstinted kindness of the 
teacher, who told him that Mr. Miller had instructed 
him to render Dodge any assistance that he could, 
greatly impressed him. Dodge would have been 
less than a man if such kindness and self-sacrifice 
had not aroused his noblest manhood. The actions 
of Mrs. Miller were full of kindliness; while her 
words, so full of truth, reminded him of the evil 
nature that was not dead, but only dormant or 
stunned within him. As he thought of it all he 
shut his eyes for a moment. 

" 'O, wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver 
me ?’ ” he groaned, in agonizing thought. 


176 Duck Lake 

Mrs. Miller turned from tidying up the room and 
looked at him. 

‘That’s the right kind of a cry, Dave. You’re not 
the first man that cried it, either.” 

“Was ever a man so guilty and sinful ?” 

“Well, Dave, whether he was or not I’m not the 
one to say, but the teacher will read about the one 
in the Bible who was wretched because of his sins 
and cried to be relieved. The preacher or John will 
tell you how you may get peace, and you’ll come out 
all right, yet.” 

“Do you think so, Mrs. Miller?” 

“Well, Dave, John has faith in you, and I’m be- 
ginning to have some, too, and I know that the 
Lord Jesus is no respecter of persons. He can 
save you as well as he can save anybody, and he 
just loves a good, heavy lift, Dave. Yes, he does; 
when a chap’s away down, man or woman, he loves 
to get right down under them and lift them right 
up. ‘For when we were without strength Christ 
died for the ungodly.’ He’s got to go down a long 
ways to get you, hasn’t he, Dave ?” 

“Yes,” groaned Dave. 

“Well, Dave, look to Jesus Christ. The teacher’s 
here, and he’ll read to you about the ‘wretched man.’ 
I’ll send you up some nice gruel in a few minutes.” 

And the good woman hastened away to the 
kitchen to prepare gruel and other good things for 
all her patients. 


CHAPTER III 
The Gall of Bitterness 

T he teacher opened his Bible, as he was re- 
quested, and read the seventh chapter of 
Romans. Old Dave seemed to be in an 
agony of thought and did not appear to drink in 
much of the truth of the chapter. But Paul’s dra- 
matic ending, so descriptive of the power of sin, 
indulged, over the body, and the threatened consum- 
mation of sin, death, roused the hearer. “ ‘O, 
wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from 
the body of this death?’ ” he repeated over and over. 
It seemed to be the phrase that suited his mental and 
moral condition, and he lashed himself with it — 
for he was, indeed, in the gall of bitterness and the 
bondage of iniquity, and, at the time, did not know 
that such a spirit of contrition presaged a way of 
liberty. 

The teacher had ceased reading at the end of the 
chapter, and, perceiving Dodge’s face covered with 
perspiration and hearing his groans, which now be- 
came audible, he turned to see if he could relieve 
him, for he thought his sufferings were physical. 

“What can I do for you, Mr. Dodge?” he in- 
quired. 


178 


Duck Lake 


"'Read on/’ said Dodge. 

The teacher, to his own astonishment, for he 
had never seen the Spirit working in this wise in 
a strong-willed man, now realized that the wrestling 
and pain in Dodge were less physical than mental 
and spiritual. He wished that the preacher were 
present, for he was sure that he would not only 
most truly appreciate such a wrestling of the Spirit, 
but he would also know what words of direction 
and encouragement to give the man. 

While better educated than Dodge, the teacher 
had neither Dodge’s strength of mind or will nor 
his long record of defiant sinfulness. The teacher 
belonged to that goodly class of people who have 
a desire to do right and whose lives are morally 
correct, but who for a long time have lived in the 
moonlight of their own consciences and the starlight 
of the world’s literature. When the teacher came 
into the clearer light of Christ it was like the break- 
ing of a calm, beautiful summer’s day, in the easy, 
joyful coming of the morning twilight and then the 
sunlight. 

But with Dodge the experience was vastly differ- 
ent. With him it was the bursting of the sun at 
noonday upon the land, where the morning had 
known only the darkness and devastation of a 
cyclone. 

The blaze of the light of Christ, streaming into 
his heart, revealed to him the terrible havoc of sin, 
his soul in open rebellion to its Maker and the har- 


Duck Lake 


179 


borer of iniquity, and his body, under such rebellion, 
sold to sin; the end of which was death, eternal 
death. In this light the man reeled, dazzled, and, 
seeing his soul laden with the seeds of eternal death 
rather than the means of salvation offered, he cried 
in his agony, ‘‘ ‘O, wretched man that I am ! who 
shall deliver me?’ ” 

The teacher had taken up the Bible to read on, 
but the man’s visible anguish disturbed him, and he 
persistingly thought of physical relief. 

‘‘Read on, I say,” said Dodge, somewhat imperi- 
ously, “read on. Let’s hear the end of it, even if it 
lands me in hell.” 

The teacher felt shocked at the man’s words, then 
he wanted to smile, but, remembering Dodge’s re- 
cent actions under liquor, he became fearful that 
Dodge’s mind was again giving way. Dodge looked 
at him with blazing eyes. 

“Read on, young man.” 

The teacher sat down again and quietly read the 
next chapter — the wonderful eighth chapter of Ro- 
mans. Dodge drank in the truth as a thirsty man; 
then there was freedom offered from sin and death, 
freedom in Christ Jesus, freedom through the 
Spirit, life by being led by the Spirit, a son of 
God, the witness of the Spirit, the justification and 
glorification of God’s elect ! 

Long ere Mr. Green had finished the chapter 
Dodge’s wrestling had ceased, the perspiration had 
dried from his brow, and he was very still and quiet. 


180 


Duck Lake 


‘‘Thank you” he said to Mr. Green, when he had 
finished. It was the first time he had said “Thank 
you” to anyone for years. “Come and read the last 
chapter to me again to-morrow.” 

“Here, Mr. Green,” called Mrs. Miller, “come and 
get some broth for Dave.” 

The teacher hastened to the hall and found Mrs. 
Miller at the foot of the stairs with a tray, the chief 
thing upon which was a large bowl of steaming 
chicken broth. Taking the tray, the teacher came 
back to Dodge, and after fixing him, with great 
care of his wounds, in his bed he placed the tray in 
front of him. The first few spoonfuls nearly choked 
him, because his thoughts seemed to place a lump 
in his throat, but his appetite was much better after 
he had swallowed some of the broth. Then he ate 
more heartily the bread and butter and the jam and 
drank a cup of tea. 

Dodge then felt so refreshed that he wanted to 
get up. 

“No,” said the teacher. “You can’t do that, for 
two reasons : you have many bruises and burns, and 
are still a weak man. You will have to await doc- 
tor’s orders. And then, you know, you have no 
clothes, not even a shirt. Yours were all burned in 
the hotel!” 

“Well, what a fix!” exclaimed Dodge, with a 
smile and without an oath, which caused him to be 
somewhat surprised at himself. He was truly be- 
ginning to be a new man. 


Duck Lake 


181 


‘^Send some one to Sandy Bay — Thompson, the 
storekeeper, knows my size — and get a whole rig 
out. He owes me money and can turn it over to my 
account.^^ 

‘‘You won’t need it for three or four days any- 
way.” 

“I’ll be ready to get into it as soon as it comes,” 
said Dodge, emphatically. 

While Dodge was thus making good progress 
toward recovery John Miller was suffering intense 
pain and slowly getting weaker. The doctor arrived 
and pronounced the injuries to the backbone and 
other parts of the most serious nature. 

This report did not cause a word of complaint 
to escape the good old man. With infinite patience 
he submitted to the treatment, and, assisted by the 
medicaments given to relieve his pain, went peace- 
fully to sleep. Mrs. Miller was not made fully 
aware of the danger of her husband, but when Mr. 
Green had the whole truth wrung out of him by 
his imperious patient Dodge was overwhelmed in 
agony and remorse. 

“Hurry up those clothes. Green, for I must be up 
and see if I can’t save that man’s life. I’m a worth- 
less wretch compared to him. I hope that my wife 
is helping all that she can.” 

“Yes, she is a bit unsteady yet, but she is ren- 
dering Mrs. Miller good help in the kitchen.” 

“Why doesn’t she come to see me?” said Dodge, 
a little peevishly. 


182 


Duck Lake 


‘Terhaps she awaits the request of her lord/^ re- 
plied the teacher, with a smile. 

^‘That's so, Green. I was forgetting what a brute 
I have been to her. Go and tell her I want to see 
her.^^ 

With pleasure Green hastened to the kitchen and 
told Mrs. Dodge that her husband was anxious to 
see her. 

A sudden pallor sprang into the woman’s face, 
and she looked appealingly at Mrs. Miller. 

‘‘Go, dear,” said the motherly body. “He’ll only 
do you good now. When Christ gets hold of a man 
like Dave you’ve got a man worth while.” 

Thus relieved, but with much fear and trembling, 
she entered Dodge’s chamber. After showing her 
in the teacher closed the door and went back to see 
if he could not aid Mrs. Miller in rearranging her 
household or in securing help to look after the 
farm. 

Mrs. Miller told him that Mrs. Dodge had thrown 
herself heart and soul into the kitchen work and that 
she was all right there. Green then went outside 
and was surprised and delighted to see that all the 
stock had been carefully put in, fed, and bedded. 
To whom belonged the credit he did not know until 
the next morning, when he found Lanky carrying 
two brimming pails of milk to the kitchen. 

“How’s Mr. Miller?” was his first question, which 
was quickly followed by, “And how’s Dave?” 

“Mr. Miller is very quiet, but will have a hard 


Duck Lake 


183 


time, if he ever gets well,” said Mr. Green, with a 
sad face. ‘‘But Dodge is much better and wants 
a whole outfit of clothes. Will you be so good as to 
go to Sandy Bay to Thompson’s for him?” 

“Sure,” said Lanky; “when I put the stock to 
pasture I’ll go.” 


CHAPTER IV 
The New Suit 

T he September day that had dawned was 
one of rarest beauty. The meadows, with 
their cattle slowly moving about and graz- 
ing, hung as in an azure haze ; while the trees of the 
forest were painted in their autumnal colors. A 
little stream ran past Mr. Miller's barn, and it shone 
like a band of silver in the morning light. Dave 
Dodge saw all this from his bed, and wondered if 
something new had not come into the world. It 
seemed changed, and it was in a way inexpressible 
to him. 

While he was thus looking and wondering his 
wife came in with some breakfast. She had lost 
her fear, but her face was very pale and her nose 
was cruelly marked. In their interview the previous 
evening the light was so dim that Dodge had not 
noticed the effects of his cruelty. Now in the morn- 
ing light he saw, and his heart smote him. 

‘^Here's some breakfast, Dave," said his wife, 
with a smile. ‘T fixed it all myself." 

Dodge turned to speak, but he choked. 

‘‘O, Dave," exclaimed his wife, for fear had not 
been driven very far from her heart, “don't look 
at me like that." 


Duck Lake 


185 


Then a tear glistened in each of Dodge’s eyes. 

‘What’s the matter, Dave?” asked the woman 
tenderly, putting down the tray and coming to the 
man’s side. 

“You said you forgave me all, Mary,” stammered 
the man. 

Yes, I did, Dave, I’m so glad to. Now won’t 
you eat your breakfast ?” 

“Does it hurt you yet?” asked Dodge. 

“What?” 

“Why, your nose.” 

“I haven’t thought much about it. I’ve been so 
happy after what you said last night. Never mind 
the nose, Dave, if the heart’s in the right place.” 

“Do you think it can be healed ?” 

“It doesn’t make much matter.” 

“It will always remind me of my cruelty.” 

“And keep us both humble, eh, Dave ?” 

“Well, Mary, I guess that you’re getting on faster 
than I am in the good way, and I’m glad.” 

“Now, Dave, eat your breakfast or it’ll be cold.” 

So he ate his breakfast with much relish, while 
his wife fixed up his bedclothes and waited upon him 
with her heart full of a new hope and a new joy. 

The day passed quietly. The teacher read again 
the eighth chapter of Romans, and regretted the 
illness that prevented the preacher from coming to 
explain things ; but Dave’s strong mind was in keen 
sympathy with that of the apostle Paul, and the 
Word itself was sufficient for him. 


186 


Duck Lake 


Mr. Miller put in a very poor day, for his pain 
was great. The doctor came again, and his face 
darkened. When Dodge found out the truth he 
begged and pleaded that he might be allowed to 
rise. 

^^Can’t you rig me up a suit out of Mr. Miller’s 
clothes?” he asked of the teacher. ‘^He and I are 
near of a size.” 

‘^But your burns would be chafed !” 

‘Tet them be.” 

*^And spoil the clothes !” 

'"Bring that doctor in here,” demanded Dodge. 

The doctor came. 

"Doctor, I’m going to get up, and if you can fix 
my wounds so as to save the clothes I’ll be obliged.” 

"You are better in bed, but if you will get up I’ll 
fix your burns.” 

"I will get up ; so go ahead.” 

The doctor anointed the wounds afresh, put some 
absorbent cotton gently upon them, and bound the 
wounds more tightly than he had previously done. 
The teacher got some of Mr. Miller’s garments and 
made Dodge fairly presentable. 

The doctor almost expected to see Dodge sink 
back into bed from pain and dizziness, or at least 
to hear him groan, but none of these things hap- 
pened. Whatever agony he suffered, his attendants 
were not made aware of it. 

"Now I’m fit,” exclaimed Dodge, and he stood 
up and walked to the door. "Where’s John Miller ?” 


* Duck Lake 187 

When he was shown into Mr. Miller’s room he 
found Mrs. Miller ready to serve him some tea. 

‘Wou look tired, Mrs. Miller. Let me wait on 
John, and you take a rest,” said Dodge, with a 
courtesy and kindliness, and also with a steadiness 
of body, that surprised the spectators. 

“Why, Dave, are you so well?” exclaimed Mrs. 
Miller. She had refused to let anyone else, not even 
the teacher, wait upon her husband, but she unhesi- 
tatingly handed the tea things over to Dodge. 

When on his best behavior Dodge knew as well 
as anyone how to wait upon and serve with courtesy 
his hotel guests, and now when his love and rever- 
ence were awakened he was all that could have been 
demanded by the most fastidious. 

“He won’t eat much,” wailed Mrs. Miller, as she 
watched Dodge coddling up her husband. 

“You get some nice things once in a while,” re- 
plied Dodge, “and leave the rest to me.” 

“And so I will, Dave,” she declared, “for I see 
you can do more with John than I can.” 

And then she left the room, while the doctor 
and the teacher, who were at the door, went down- 
stairs with her, leaving the two men alone. 

With his left arm tenderly under Mr. Miller’s 
head Dodge coaxed him to sip his tea. Mr. Miller 
was supremely happy in that embrace, while his new 
self-constituted nurse, with set lips, was determined 
to do his duty whichever way it lay. 

“Do you think you can talk a little, John?” asked 


188 


Duck Lake 


Dodge, very quietly, after he had induced his patient 
to take all the broth. 

*Tm ’most too happy for anything, Dave. Bless 
the Lord!” 

‘^What makes you so happy? You must be ’most 
racked to death with pain 1” 

‘‘Not all the pain in the world can separate me 
from the love of Christ, Dave ; and then he has given 
you to me. That makes me happy — just to have 
you here. I’ve been wondering when you’d come. 
I’ve longed and prayed for you many a day. O, how 
kind and tender you are, Dave, and I love you. My 
prayers for you are answered.” 

Dodge sat down on a low chair by the bedside 
and buried his face in the bedclothes. He wept — 
perhaps from weakness and his sudden exertion, but 
also from the welling up of his heart in response to 
the all-conquering love of Christ as he saw it and 
felt it in John Miller. It was some time before he 
spoke again. Mr. Miller lifted his hands in praise 
to God, and then let his right one fall with his bless- 
ing upon Dodge’s head. Dodge let it lie there for a 
few minutes. It sent seraphic thrills through his 
whole being. Then he removed it to his lips and 
kissed it. 

He rose quickly and washed his tearstained face, 
for he heard a tap on the door. Then he opened 
it and met the teacher. 

“Lanky has returned with your new clothes, and 
here’s a letter from Thompson to you.” 


Duck Lake 


189 


He quickly tore open the envelope and read among 
other things : ‘1 am very glad to send you a suit, 
and I also inclose a hundred dollars, which may be 
serviceable to you just now.” 

‘‘Bless his heart, that was thoughtful of him!” 
exclaimed Dodge. “I wonder if he has been con- 
verted.” 

“That’s not impossible,” replied the teacher. 
“Lanky was telling your wife of a wonderful revival 
down that way when I left.” 

“That’s it. It takes the grace of God to make 
men considerate.” 

The next morning Dodge put on his new suit and 
renewed his attentions to his patient. 

After giving him his breakfast Dave read the 
Bible to Mr. Miller, as well as his full heart and 
overflowing tears would let him. 

At that moment Mrs. Miller ushered in Warden 
Fitzgerald. Dodge rose quickly and brushed away 
his tears with his coat sleeve. 

“I am very sorry to see you here, Mr. Miller,” he 
said, kindly, as he pressed Mr. Miller’s hand. 

“I have my reward, bless God!” replied Mr. 
Miller. 

“What’s that ?” asked the warden, with a smile. 

“Dave. God has given me Dave’s love.” 

The warden turned and beheld a new man. The 
coarse, villainous look and defiant eyes had disap- 
peared with the dirty, greasy clothes. A man with 
earnest demeanor, but eyes full of tenderness, even 


190 


Duck Lake 


tears, and clad in clean, new clothes, stood before 
him. He gazed with intense, even critical, scrutiny, 
but Dodge did not resent that now. He coveted 
such examination, and wished that every bit of his 
wickedness might be exposed and purged away. 

‘This is wonderful!” exclaimed the warden. 

Dave smiled through the tears that hung in his 
eyes. 

“Yes,” said Mr. Miller, “it is wonderful, praise 
be to our Lord 1 He can do wonderful things. He 
hath placed me in the cleft of the rock, and I have 
seen his glory.” 

“Your week was up yesterday. Dodge,” said the 
warden, with mock imperiousness. 

“I should like to stay to nurse Mr. Miller back to 
health.” 

“Nurse Mr. Miller back ! — ” exclaimed the warden. 

“Yes, he’s John’s nurse,” put in Mrs. Miller, “and 
he’s a good one, too. He can make John eat and 
do things I can’t. I hope you won’t send him away 
now, Mr. Fitzgerald. Whatever would I do without 
him ?” 

“Dodge, you have a better and more successful 
advocate here than any lawyer you ever had. May 
God continue to bless you and make you a blessing, 
is all that I can say, except to add a hope that he 
may extend his mercy to me.” 

“He will bless him!” said Mr. Miller. 

“And that order to leave, Mr. Fitzgerald?” put in 
Dodge, not quite satisfied. 


Duck Lake 


191 


“It hangs over old Dave Dodge’s head,” said the 
warden, with a significant smile, “and if he ever 
comes back to these parts, woe betide him !” 

“He’ll never come back, by God’s help,” said 
Dave. 

“Amen,” said Mr. Miller. 






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